


Leverage

by awesomecherry



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4086661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomecherry/pseuds/awesomecherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D, and the recovery of Bucky, Steve takes some time to figure out what makes him happy. Living in Brooklyn, helping Bucky recover, he begins to see that while there are heroes for the big problems, there are a lot of people with problems that the system can't (or won't) help. Frustrated with how little the law helps some people, Steve does the only thing he can to help, he provides.....leverage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my take on what basically amounts to a Captain America/Leverage fusion. Where Steve and Co use less than legal means to bring down people the police can't, and to help 'the little person'. Featuring Steve as the mastermind, Natasha as the grifter, Bucky as the hitter, and Sam as the thief. (Now with bonus hacker Tony!) It's a slow build towards the main plot, so hang in there. I have a little bit of World building to do first. =)

Steve spends eight months tracking Bucky after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s hard only because Bucky isn’t ready to be found. His trail is easy enough to follow. The bodies of Hydra scientists, sometimes unconscious, most of the time dead, are found laid out neatly in front of decimated Hydra bolt holes all across the United States. Steve and Sam follow the roadmap of burned out buildings and terrified, tortured scientists along the path of Bucky’s the Winter Soldier’s revenge.  


Steve can’t think of him as Bucky. Not when the survivors are always missing a body part or more after the Winter Soldier finds them. Not when, no matter how close he gets, the Winter Soldier evades him. Steve doesn’t blame him for taking revenge on the people that hurt him, destroyed the person he used to, turned him into a weapon. Steve wants to hurt them just as badly. But every executed scientist, every ripped apart Hydra lab, shows that the Winter Soldier is firmly in the driver’s seat.  


At the end of the eight month, right when Steve is beginning to lose faith in chasing his best friend, is starting to wonder if he should step back and wait for Bucky to approach him, the trail comes to an abrupt halt in Brooklyn, New York. Sam and Steve are taking a look at the latest bolt hole the Winter Soldier has demolished when Steve gets a phone call from an unhappy Natasha.  


Natasha doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “There are news crews reporting a man with a metal arm at the Brooklyn docks. People are speculating whether it’s the same person responsible for shutting down the freeway in D.C.” She pauses, and then continues carefully, “The police are forming a perimeter as we speak.”  


Steve hangs up before Natasha can suggest he wait for backup. He’s not worried. The Brooklyn docks don’t mean anything to the Winter Soldier, but they do mean something to Bucky.  


Sam doesn’t bother trying to talk Steve out of it, he just slides into the rental car they’re using, calm and collected as always. Steve is reminded of just how amazing Sam is, and how thankful he is to have him as friend, when Sam doesn’t attempt to break the silence stretching between them. Sam’s always been good at knowing what Steve needs most.  


When they arrive, parking a block over to be out of the way, Sam meanders towards the cops, while Steve heads straight towards Bucky, ducking under the perimeter tape without hesitation. Bucky doesn’t turn around as he approaches, doesn’t even move until Steve carefully settles on the seawall next to him. Bucky looks over, and Steve’s heart starts beating double time because it’s not the glassy-eyed confusion Steve had seen on the hellicarrier, nor is it the blank disinterest from the freeway. No, the look in his eyes is all Bucky. It’s pain/hurt/anger/ mixed with confusion/relief/regret, all of which Steve has spent his whole life seeing in his best friend’s eyes.  


Steve waits, but Bucky doesn’t say anything. Just keeps staring. He wants to reach out and grip Bucky’s shoulder, he wants to tell him how much he’s missed him, how sorry he is for not looking for him after the fall. He hesitates, and then reaches slowly out towards Bucky. “Can I?” He gestures towards the picture gripped tightly in Bucky’s flesh and blood hand.  


Bucky looks down at the picture and then back to Steve, seemingly searching his face before he carefully hands over the picture.  


Steve takes in the picture. He knows it’s commonly used in history text books, the prototypical picture of Captain America and Sergeant Barnes, side by side, looking over a map spread out over the hood of a regulation Army vehicle. They’re smiling playfully at each other in the picture. Steve remembers their shoulders and arms had brushed against each other’s every time either of them had moved, that they had been laughing, something preciously rare since Bucky’s rescue. Steve’s lips quirk in a smile.  


“That’s really us?” Bucky asks, voice strained and confused, and a little bit angry.  


“Yeah, Buck. That’s really us.” Steve replies, handing the photograph back.  


Bucky takes it, barely glancing at it before shoving it into the ratty pocket of his jeans. “They said you were dead.”  


It’s a statement and a question all rolled into one. Steve shrugs helplessly. “I didn’t die, Buck.”  


“I think I did.”  


Steve inhales sharply, his arms tense at his sides as he wills himself not to reach out and touch his best friend. People have touched Bucky without his consent for decades, Steve isn’t about to do the same.  


Bucky’s staring at Steve strangely, like he’s not sure why Steve is so upset all of the sudden. “You were dead, and I thought I would be too. But they didn’t kill me, they wanted to use me. I wanted to die, but I couldn’t, they wouldn’t let me.”  


“What do you want now, Buck?” Steve asks gently.  


“I want to live.”  
∞  


Steve buys a duplex in Brooklyn not far from where he and Bucky lived together after his mom died and he couldn’t afford rent on his own. For the first few months, Sam lives on the ground floor and Bucky and Steve share the floor above. Neither can stand the thought of the other being out of sight, let alone having a floor between them as they sleep. They attempt to sleep in different bedrooms, although it rarely happens. If Bucky does manage to fall asleep, he usually ends up screaming himself awake from a nightmare, Steve holding his metal arm down to keep him from injuring himself. Bucky spends most of his nights reading fantasy novels and listening to music.  


Sam is a godsend. He transfers to a VA nearby, goes running with Steve every morning, and acts as an interim counselor for Bucky until he feels comfortable enough to see a certified therapist. Bucky cooks everyday as part of his treatment plan to regain his self-identity, and Same and Steve are happy to eat with him and praise his cooking skills. Steve insists he was always a good cook, the soup he made whenever Steve was bedridden was to die for.  


With the rest of the Avengers taking care of any problems that crop up, and giving him much needed space, Steve starts volunteering at the local hospital, nursing home, and the VA where Sam works. When he has a spare moment, he likes to think about the conversation he had with Sam in the halls of VA, before the Winter Soldier and the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. He likes to think he’s figured out what makes him happy.He knows he’s seeing a miracle every time Bucky smiles or laughs. 

Bucky’s recovery is rough and slow going, but Steve has never been happier. The world might see Captain America as a hero, but he’s never felt more like one when four months in to his recovery, Bucky shakes Steve awake in the middle of the night to tell him he remembers he used to dream Steve would rescue him again. Bucky buries his face in Steve’s shoulder, barely holding back tears as he whispers half hysterically, “You did it. You saved me again.” 

Steve grins into Bucky’s hair. “ And I always will, Buck.”


	2. The calm before the storm

William Whittmore Senior is Steve’s favorite nursing home resident. A Vietnam war veteran, Mr. Whittmore ( _“Call me Willy, Mr. Whittmore’s my father!”_ ) is all sharp comebacks and dirty jokes that make Steve blush to the roots of his hair. Willy thinks its mission in life to teach Steve how to swear like a real soldier, and is personally offended every time Steve gets flustered and calls him Sir. Steve takes to visiting Willy three times a week when he learns from the staff that Willy’s family live in Florida and never visit. ( _“They wanted to live near the beach, and I wasn’t much of a father anyway. Only thing I gave my son worth anything was my name.”_ ) Steve escorts Willy to lunch in the cafeteria and to PT in the afternoon after a game of texas hold’em. 

Four months after Steve first met Willy, he’s walking down the hall towards Willy’s room when a nurse motions him over. 

“Willy’s been moved to a different room.” Nurse Karen says, a furrow between her brows. “Apparently, his family couldn’t afford a single room anymore.” 

Steve knows Willy’s wife had set up an account for the sole purpose of funding Willy’s stay in a home before she died. Steve has personally deposited Willy’s social security checks in the account, and the balance had been a couple hundred thousand dollars. Steve frowns, but thanks Karen and heads towards the stairs to head to Willy’s new room on the third floor. 

“Hey Willy! I heard you got a new room. How’re you liking the new place?” Steve knocks lightly on the open door. He gives the room a quick once over, crinkling his nose in distaste. Willy’s old room, while not spacious, had given the illusion of space and privacy. His new room is tiny and has two beds crammed into too small a space with only a nightstand separating them. There is no dresser like Willy had previously, just a TV mounted in the center of the wall the beds are facing. Steve spots an open door to the right of the TV he assumes leads to a bathroom. To the left of the TV there is what is probably supposed to be a closet, but is just a hole in the all with shelves filled to the max. 

Steve smiles when Willy rolls his head towards the door. “I’m gone for two days and you up and move on me. I didn’t know you wanted to get away from me that badly.” 

Willy frowns in confusion. “Junior, what are you doing here? Where’s your Mama?” 

Steve’s smile slips of his face. “Willy, it’s me, Steve.” 

Willy frowns harder. “What are you talking about Junior? You should be washing up for dinner, you know how your Mama hates it when you come to the table with dirty hands.” 

Steve forces an approximation of a smile on his face. “Of course, I’ll go do that.” He glances at the other bed, but the man in it hasn’t moved since Steve walked into the room. He slips back out the door and approaches the empty nurse’ desk. He taps his knuckles gently against the wood as he waits, thinking over Willy’s behavior. 

Like most older people, Willy forgets things sometimes, but he’s sharper than a lot of the other patients Steve’s met in the home. He’s never mistaken Steve for anyone else, never showed signs of progressed dementia, so Steve is shocked by the sudden change. Two days ago Willy had told story after story of his days before ‘Nam, had cracked up when Steve choked on his drink when Willy called him ‘whippersnapper’. 

Steve checks his watch impatiently. He knows the protocol is to always have a nurse available at the desk, in case a resident needs something. He’s been standing there for fifteen minutes and he hasn’t seen one nurse. He thinks back and realizes he hasn’t seen a nurse since he left the first floor. He waits another ten minutes before he gives up standing there and starts trying to hunt one down. He peeks in every room on the floor before he finds a breakroom next to the emergency staircase. Two male nurses in their late twenties are sitting inside at a table, watching a football game on the TV, and eating chips. 

He clears his throat, “Excuse me, I was hoping to talk to a nurse about William Whittmore?” 

One of the guys turns to look at Steve. “You family?” 

“No, but-“ 

“Sorry, we can’t discuss patients with anyone other than family.” The guy says and turns back around towards the TV. 

“Shouldn’t there be a nurse at the floor desk?” Steve asks. 

The other nurse turns around at that, giving Steve a harsh glare. “We’re on break. Now if you aren’t here visiting family, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

“I’m a volunteer. I’ve been volunteering here for four months.” Steve says through gritted teeth. 

“This floor is closed to volunteers. Now you need to head back to the first floor, or I’ll talk to my supervisor and you won’t be volunteering here anymore.” 

Steve glances at the guy’s name badge. “Look, Craig, I don’t want any trouble-“ 

Craig stands up abruptly, the other nurse, his name tag says Stuart, grips Craig’s arm. “Look, dude, I don’t know what your problem is, but I told you this floor is closed to visitors, now you need to leave, or I’ll call security.” 

Steve looks between the two nurses, a dark feeling settling in his stomach. “Fine, I’m leaving. No need to call security.” He turns on his heel and storms down the hall. He pauses to peek in to Willy’s room, but Willy is asleep, so he moves on. 

He searches out Karen on the first floor. “What the hell is going on on the third floor?” 

Karen looks shocked at Steve’s outburst, but she gently takes his arm and leads him to the empty visitor waiting room. “What are you talking about?” 

“I went up to visit Willy, and he thought I was his son. He didn’t recognize me, even after I told him who I was. So I went to talk to a nurse, and the desk was empty. I found two nurses in the break room watching football, and they told me they couldn’t tell me anything, and that volunteers aren’t allowed on the third floor.” 

“I’ve never heard that volunteers aren’t allowed up there.” She chews her lip in thought. “I know Willy was on some medication, maybe the doctor changed his dose. Some medications can make patients confused about the time or place. I’ll look into it.” She pats Steve on the arm. “Maybe you should head home. You’re pretty scary when you’re angry. We wouldn’t want to scare the rest of the residents. I’ll call you later, let you know what I find out after I talk to my supervisor.” 

Steve breathes out slowly, runs his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll head home, see if Bucky wants to grab some lunch or something. Thanks, Karen.” 

Karen just smiles. “You’re a good guy, Steve. I’ll look into it, and we’ll get it figured out, don’t worry.” 

Steve smiles back at her, and heads out. 

∞ 

The ride home helps clear his mind. He can still feel anger rolling through his veins, but it’s subdued now. He still feels the need to hit something, but he can push it down. If he’s lucky, Bucky might want to spar with him. He jogs up the stairs that lead to the second floor front door, and unlocks it, slipping inside quietly. He’s not expected for several more hours, and he’s not sure if Bucky is awake. Sometimes, when Bucky can’t sleep at night, he’ll nap on the couch in the afternoon until Steve gets back from volunteering. 

Today is not one of those days, Steve finds out when he enters the living room to see Bucky sprawled out on the couch, book held above his face, music playing softly in the background. Bucky looks up as Steve enters, smile stretching across his face. 

“Hey, Buck.” Steve throws his jacket in the direction of hall closet and drops onto the recliner next to couch. “Whatcha readin’?” 

Bucky’s smile fades as Steve reclines the chair. “Moonwalking with Einstein, it’s about memory.” 

Ever since Bucky let himself be found at the Brooklyn docks, he’s been obsessed with memory. He’s worked hard for the past six months to regain his memories, the good and the bad, and spends hours reading articles and books on the science of memory and how to keep his memory sharp. 

“Learn anything new?” Steve asks, turning onto his side so he can see Bucky’s face. 

“What’s wrong?” The question is said harshly, and it makes Steve sit up straight. 

“What do you mean, Buck?” 

“Somethin’s wrong. You came home early, and you have your ‘start shit, get hit’ face on.” Bucky waves a hand towards Steve’s face. 

Steve rolls his eyes. Bucky has a name for every face Steve makes. “Where did you hear that one?” 

Bucky shrugs. “I saw it on a t-shirt. Now don’t avoid the question. What happened?” 

“You know Willy?” 

“Old dude, likes to make you blush, taught you those slurs. What about him?” 

Steve shifts in the chair, he can feel the anger bubbling in his veins as he remembers. “They moved him to a new room, and the nurses were dicks. He didn’t recognize me, which has never happened before, and the whole thing just felt wrong.” 

Bucky flinches back. “I’m sorry he didn’t recognize you.” He says softly. 

“No, Buck, it’s not a big deal. It was just how the nurses handled it that bothered me. Karen thinks maybe they changed his medicine and it was just a bad reaction.” Steve reaches out towards Bucky, but doesn’t touch him until Buck leans towards his outstretched hand. Steve pulls him into a hug. 

“So what are you going to do?” Bucky asks when they separate. 

“Well, Karen said she’d call after she asked around, she what she can find out.” Steve replies. “I guess I’ll just wait to hear from her, take it from there.” 

Bucky slaps him hard on the back. “Well, while you’re waiting, why don’t we head down to the gym and spar.” He pats his toned stomach. “I think I’m getting fat, sitting ‘round here doin’ nothing all the time.” He eyes Steve’s toned belly, abs just visible through his too tight shirt. “You look like you could use a workout, too. All the cookin’ I’ve been doing is going straight to your gut.” 

Steve gasps in mock outrage and launches himself at Bucky. “How dare you! At least I go running every morning!” He gets Bucky in a headlock, rubbing his hand into his messy hair. 

“Well you need to, with the rest of your little team picking up the slack for you. Can’t have you gettin’ too lazy, you won’t fit into your ridiculous costume.” Bucky flips Steve over his shoulder carefully, making sure he lands on the couch. 

“We’ll see whose lazy, ya jerk.” Steve grins, grabbing Bucky’s offered hand and pulling himself to his feet. “I’m gonna kick your ass.” 

“Big talk from a man who wears tights.” Bucky grins over his shoulder, heading towards the door. 

“They’re not tights!!” Steve squawks, hurrying after his friend. 

∞ 

They spend so long sparring at the gym that it’s Sam who comes to get them when the sun is just barely visible in the sky. 

Sam stops just inside the gym doors, taking in the pile of ruined punching bags laying outside the sparring ring which contains Bucky and Steve flat on their backs breathing harshly, and the rest of the empty gym. Sam whistles through his teeth. “You boys sure know how to gather a crowd.” 

Steve lifts his head at the sound of the whistle. Taking a quick look around, he shrugs. “I think they cleared out after Bucky punched straight through a bag.” 

Sam walks a little closer, amused look clear on his face. “And how long ago was that?” 

Steve searches for a clock before giving up and shaking his head. “I don’t know, that was when we were warming up. What time is it?” 

Sam makes a show of checking his watch. “Oh, only about 7:30.” 

Bucky starts laughing. “I think we’ve been here for like five hours.” 

Sam smile and rolls his eyes. “C’mon, I ordered pizza. Natasha said she’s coming over for a movie night.” 

Steve jerks upright. “When is she coming over?” 

Sam’s smile turns smug. “Now.”


	3. the plot thickens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I should put a disclaimer. I don't own Marvel, or the characters, or anything worth anything. Also, thanks to everyone who has commented or left kudos. I really appreciate it. =) And I don't have a beta, so sorry for any glaring mistakes. I'm mostly writing it, rereading to catch any obvious mistakes, and then posting, so I'm not sure I'm catching everything.

Movie night with Natasha is a good distraction from thinking about Willy and the nursing home. After the fifth time Steve checks his phone while they’re eating, Natasha pointedly raises one eyebrow, making Steve get up and put his phone away in his room. They watch **How to Train Your Dragon** , which goes well until the end and Hiccup loses his leg. 

Bucky flinches back at the sight of Hiccup’s prosthetic and goes completely still. They turn off the movie, but the damage is done. Bucky won’t respond to anyone, and his eyes have the far away look he gets when he’s remembering something. Steve stays next to Bucky on the couch, close but not touching him, just a warm presence to his side, letting him know he’s not alone. 

Sam and Natasha give Steve soft smiles and head out, closing the door softly behind them. Steve knows they’ll both call tomorrow to check in with him and Bucky, and to apologize. A box of donuts (Bucky’s favorite) will undoubtedly show up in the morning, courtesy of Natasha. It’s almost routine now, when they accidently trigger Bucky. 

Bucky doesn’t sleep that night, so neither does Steve. Eventually, Bucky comes out of it enough to get up and walk around. He paces the carpet angrily for a while, before finally making his way to kitchen, pulling out a recipe book when he gets there. 

Bucky’s therapist suggested cooking as a coping mechanism when they discovered Bucky genuinely enjoyed being in the kitchen. Bucky confided that it gave him some sense of control when he felt like he didn’t have any. 

Steve stayed in the living room and sketched. He knew Bucky liked him to be close right after he remembered something painful, but not too close. Steve sketched Willy as he’d looked the last time they’d played cards, head titled back in laughter, eyes burning with joy as he took all of Steve’s money. 

Eventually, sunlight crept through the windows and the smell of French toast cooking roused Steve from the sofa. 

The kitchen counters were covered in various baked goods, everything from cookies to chocolate cake. “Smells good, Buck.” 

Bucky grimaced a little as he looked at everything he made. “I may have went a little overboard. You can take it the hospital with you. There’s way too much for us to eat on our own.” 

Steve stepped forward and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” He munches happily on the cookie. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Bucky shakes his head, focusing on flipping the French toast in the pan in front of him. 

“Okay, I’m gonna take a shower and get dressed. Yell when breakfast is ready.” 

Bucky turns and throws a dish towel at Steve’s face. “What am I, your personal chef? Who says any of these are for you?” 

Steve smiles, happy Bucky is attempting to joke around, and throws the towel back. “What else would I keep you around for?” 

“Go take a shower, jerk. Maybe I’ll save some of them for you. 

Steve takes his time showering and getting dressed. Sometimes he feels bad for using so much water, he remembers when hot baths were a luxury hard to come by. Slipping into jeans and a t-shirt, he checks his phone, but Karen hasn’t called yet. He puts the phone back on his dresser and goes to eat breakfast. 

Like everything else Bucky cooks, the French toast is amazing. After they eat, Steve helps Bucky package all the baked goods into Tupperware containers for him to take with him to the hospital. He shoos Bucky out of the kitchen and does all the dishes, and by the time he’s finished he’s practically twitching with the need to check his phone. 

There’s a text message and voicemail waiting for him when he picks up his phone. He checks the text message first, it’s from Natasha and it just says _=)?_. He rolls his eyes and texts her back a smiley, letting her know Bucky is fine. The voicemail is from Karen, and it sounds like she’s crying. 

“Steve, I need you to call me back when you get this. You were right, something is definitely going on at the home. I talked to my supervisor, and she sent me to the owner. He assured me that he would look into it, and then I got a call this morning telling me not to come in, that I’d been fired for poor performance. Steve, I’ve never even had a bad performance review. Just, call me when you get this.” 

Steve frowns at the phone. Every instinct in his body is telling him there is something seriously wrong going on at the nursing home. He hits the call button. 

Karen picks up on the third ring. “Steve?” 

“Yeah Karen, it’s me. What’s this about you getting fired?” 

“I can’t believe it, Steve. They called me this morning and told me my services were no longer necessary, that I just didn’t fit anymore. Can you believe that? I’ve been there for five years!” 

“Do you think this has anything to do with Willy being moved to a new room?” 

Karen breathes out sharply. “Honestly, I’m not sure. When I talked to the owner yesterday, he assured me he’d talk to the nurses on the third floor and get to the bottom of it, but he looked really shocked I was even asking about Willy in the first place. He wanted to know who was asking about Willy. I didn’t mention you by name. I just told him one of the volunteers had noticed his behavior and the behavior of the nurses. Steve, what am I going to do now?” 

“Listen, I have some connections at the hospital and with the VA. I’ll ask around see if there’s an opening. We’ll figure something out, okay?” 

“Okay.” She paused, and Steve could hear her taking a few calming breaths. “Steve, whatever is going on, I think it’s above our paygrade.” 

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe. Look, I’m going to call my friend at the VA, and I’ll see what I can do about getting you another job. Just hang in there.” 

Karen agreed and they said their goodbyes. Steve wasted no time in calling Sam. 

“Hey, buddy. How’s it goin’?” 

“What do you want, Steve?” 

“What? A guy can’t call his friend just to talk?” Steve asked, tone all innocence and mock affront. 

“A guy could, but that’s not why you’re calling. What’s up?” 

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, okay, you’re right. I need a favor.” He explains the situation, and Sam agrees to talk to HR to see if there are any open positions. 

“You know, if there is something serious going on there, which it sounds like there is, you’re going to need to talk to the authorities.” Sam says hesitantly. 

“I know, just let me look into it a little more first. Maybe it’s nothing. I need to know what exactly is going on.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Let me know what HR has to say.” 

Bucky’s waiting for Steve in the living room, bag filled with tuperware containers sitting on the coffee table next to him. He raises an eyebrow when Steve walks in. “You’re askin’ favors from Sam, now?” 

“I thought your therapist told you not to eavesdrop.” Steve replies, picking up the bag. 

Bucky shrugs. “She said I should ‘stop trying to control everything in my environment’ which included eavesdropping.” 

“Well, there you go. You should probably listen to her.” Steve shoots over his shoulder and he walks towards the door. 

“Steve.” 

Steve stops walking immediately. Bucky rarely uses that tone of voice. “Look, it’s nothing. I’m just looking into Willy’s situation.” He can feel Bucky’s stare burning into the back of his head. 

“You’ll let me know if you need my help, right?” 

Steve turns and walks back to Bucky, pulling him into a hug. “’Course I will, pal. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather have watchin’ my back.” 

∞ 

The hospital staff are always happy to see Steve. Sometimes he comes in the uniform and visits the pediatric floors, and sometimes he comes as himself and wheels patients to the cafeteria, or to therapy, and back to their rooms. Today is like every other day he visits, he greets Maryann at the front desk with a big smile and a container full of peanut butter cookies. 

“Well if it isn’t the star spangled man! And you brought goodies, are you sure you’re not single?” Maryann laughs as Steve blushes. 

“What would your husband think of you saying things like that?” Steve grins. 

Maryann leans over the desk, “Honey, he’d be cheering me on. He’s a worse flirt than I am. He’s a Woodstock baby, and he’s always up for something new in the bedroom.” She winks. 

Steve’s blush get brighter and spreads further down his chest. “Well, um, that is good to know.” Steve stutters. “I should probably go drop the rest of these off.” He raises the bag like a shield. “I’m not staying long today, I have some things to take care of at the home, but I’ll be back on Friday.” 

Maryann pats Steve’s burning cheek. “The kids are really looking forward to seeing Captain America.” 

“I’m looking forward to seeing them. I’ll try to talk Tony into flying by, Pepper told me she thinks his schedule will clear.” He gives Maryann a winning grin and waves, heading off towards the elevator. He stops on every floor to drop off a container at the nurses’ desk, drops by the cafeteria to deliver the cake to the kitchen staff, and pops in on a few of the patients in the long term care ward to chat for a few minutes. He’s in and out in under two hours, which is an accomplishment when every member of the staff tries to stop and talk to him, no less than five patients’ families want pictures with him, and he drops by HR to see if they have any positions open (they promise to email him a list of all openings by the end of the day). 

The nursing home is a twenty minute drive from the hospital, which Steve uses to plan out what exactly he wants to say to Karen’s supervisor. All the planning goes out the window when he arrives at the front desk, greeted by a staff member he’s never seen before, and is politely, but firmly told Karen’s supervisor isn’t available. 

“I understand if she’s busy. I’m willing to wait until she has a few spare minutes, ma’am.” Steve says calmly, his gut clenching as the feeling of _bad/wrong/not right_ rolls through his stomach. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but it appears former floor supervisor Pearson is no longer working here. A new floor supervisor has not been appointed. I can take a message to be passed along when a supervisor is chosen.” The woman won’t look Steve in the eye, keeping her gaze trained over his shoulder, a bored expression on her face. 

Monica Pearson, Karen’s supervisor, had worked for the nursing home for thirteen years. It was Monica who had given Steve his first tour of the home, and had actually been the person to suggest Steve visit with Willy. He can’t imagine a single reason she would have quit. “Did Mrs. Pearson give a reason for leaving?” 

“That information is confidential, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with?” 

The woman’s disinterested tone grates on Steve’s nerves. “Yes, I’d like to talk to someone about Mr. Whittmore.” 

“Are you a family member?” When Steve shakes his head, the woman continues, “I’m sorry sir, but we can only discuss patients with their family members.” 

Steve grits his teeth. “Would it be possible for me to speak to your supervisor?” 

The woman (Steve doesn’t see a nametag anywhere) shrugs. “Currently, all upper management are in a meeting. They are not expected back today. Can I take a message?” 

Steve thinks he bursts something trying to stop himself from reaching across the desk and shaking the woman. “No, that’s okay. I’ll just sign in as a volunteer.” 

She slides Steve a sign in sheet. “I’m instructed to remind all volunteers to remain on the first floor.” 

Steve pauses in the middle of signing his name. “I was going to visit William Whittmore, his room is on the third floor.” 

The woman types something into the computer. “His file says Mr. Whittmore is not allowed visitors at this time.” 

“I just visited him yesterday, there must be some kind of mistake.” 

Steve is pretty sure the woman rolls her eyes. “His file says that Mr. Whittmore has become hostile when approached, the doctor has recommended that only the nurses assigned to him have contact with him.” 

The bad feeling in Steve’s stomach is growing by the second. He grits out a thank you, and stiffly turns and leaves. He steps outside and stops to drag a hand through his hair, he takes a deep breath, and freezes when he spots the parking spot reserved for the owner of the home. A red Rolls Royce is parked in the spot. 

“Now how does the owner of a nursing home afford that?” He whispers to himself. He glances back towards the home. There’s no doubt in his mind something wrong is happening here.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve gets on his bike and drives two blocks away. He wants to make sure the cameras catch him leaving. The usefulness of being on camera is one of the things Natasha impressed upon him when she decided he needed to learn the tricks of being a spy ( _You always want to set up an alibi, on camera if possible._ ). 

The nursing home is set on half an acre of empty grass, but the faculty parking lot is backed up against a bakery. Steve grabs a jacket out of his motorcycle’s side bag, slides it on, clips his hospital volunteer ID onto it, and sends Natasha a silent thank you as he slips on a pair of black rimmed glasses. Bucky had laughed hysterically the first time Steve had worn them out in public with him. ( _Missing the days when you couldn’t see worth a damn, Stevie?!_ ) 

He rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck, takes a deep breath, and arranges his face into a semi glare. He’s less likely to get stopped if people are afraid to stop him. Natasha once told him he gets approached in public so often because he looks approachable. ( _You need to work on your resting face. Look at Clint, he looks like he’ll murder you if you talk to him, and that’s without him trying to look like that._ ) 

Steve jogs around the block, cuts through the alley next to the bakery, and pauses at the faculty parking lot. He can see a camera close to the employee entrance, but based on the security on the _inside_ of the building, it’s probably a low quality camera with a limited range. By the time he gets close enough for the camera to get a good view of him, he’ll look like any other employee heading to work. 

He keeps his head down as he makes his way to the, thankfully unlocked, door and slips inside. His watch tell him its lunch time in the home, so the majority of nurses and patients are settled in the cafeteria, making it easy to slip into the stairwell. When he gets to the third floor, he cracks the door open as quietly as possible, and glances down the hallway. He can hear the TV on in the break room next door, and the muffled laughter of its occupants. He carefully closes the door behind him, and peaks into the break room. It’s the same two nurses from yesterday, and they are completely occupied by whatever is happening on the television. They don’t turn around as Steve tiptoes past them. 

Steve’s first stop is the empty nurses’ desk. He rifles quietly through the drawers and various stacks of paperwork until he spots a file with Willy’s name on it. The first few papers are Willy’s medical history, known allergies, treatment notes from various doctors, all of which Steve scans through quickly and takes pictures of with his cell phone (curtesy of Tony). The next few pages make Steve frown and his eyebrows furrow. The first contains a detailed list of Willy’s family, with a bolded notation across the top. 

**FAMILY NEVER VISITS.**

The next page has not only Willy’s social security number, which Steve knows should be blacked out, but also several bank accounts, their member numbers and current balances, including the account that Willy’s wife had set up for the nursing home payments to come out of. The most alarming part is the balance next to the accounts. When Steve had deposited Willy’s social security check for him, the account had hundreds of thousands left. The number on the page is in the double digits. 

Steve makes sure he has pictures of every document in the file. He takes close ups of the bank account information, and shuffles the papers back exactly how he found them. He listens closely for a minute to make sure the nurses aren’t starting their rounds, and then heads to Willy’s room. 

The door is open, so he sticks his head in. Willy is awake and staring into space. The TV in the room is on, turned to a Spanish speaking station that is going on about futbol. Steve crouches by Willy’s bed and gently shakes Willy’s arm. 

“Willy, you awake?” 

Wily doesn’t so much as twitch at Steve’s touch. His eyes are unfocused and slightly glazed. Steve shakes him a little harder, but Willy still doesn’t respond. Steve rests his head on the bed next to Willy’s arm. 

“I’m going to figure this out, Willy. Whatever they’re doing to you, I’m going to fix it. Just hang in there, buddy.” Steve says quietly, patting Willy’s hand. 

His head jerks up sharply when he hears the ding of the elevator. He rushes behind the door to Willy’s room, ducking his head so he can peek around the door as footsteps pass by in the hallway. He gets a glimpse of a man in what looks like an expensive business suit, there’s a glint coming off of his many rings and shiny watch, and his shoes are shined to perfection. Steve hates him immediately. 

He waits until the footsteps fade down the hallway before rushing into the hallway after him. He crouches by the nurses’ desk as he watches the man walk into the break room down the hall. Steve takes a deep breath and then inches down the hallway, back against the wall, getting as close to the break room as possible. He hears Natasha’s voice in his head as he debates on how to get closer. 

_People never look down. They only expect other people to be at eye level, so stay low._

Steve crouches against the wall between the break room and a patient’s open room. (He ducks his head in the patient’s room before he passes, both beds are occupied, and he can hear snoring.) He slowly peeks around the corner, making sure only his eyes are visible around the doorframe. 

The two nurses are standing, looking startled, watching the businessman whose standing in front of the now muted TV. The businessman has his arms crossed against his chest, and he’s leveling a glare at the two nurses that could rival Clint’s. 

“Boss! We didn’t expect to see you today.” Craig says. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at the title. This guy doesn’t look like the owner of a nursing home. He looks like he belongs in Stark’s boardroom. In fact, now that he’s paying attention, he notices the nurses don’t exactly look like nurses. They’re wearing regulation scrubs, but instead of the sneakers most of the other nurses wear, they’re wearing heavy work boots. Their hair is cut military short, and the way they’re standing in reminiscent of a soldier standing at attention. 

“I heard someone was up here asking questions yesterday. Do you want to tell me about that?” 

Craig shifts nervously from foot to foot. “Yeah, it was just some volunteer. He wanted to know about a patient. 

“Which patient?” 

Stuart flinches back at his boss’ harsh tone. “I think the name was White?” 

“No, no it was Whittmore.” Craig corrects. 

“Whittmore.” The boss makes a thoughtful noise. “He’s a recent addition to this floor. His file says his family never visits. It’s odd that someone would be asking about him. You’re sure he wasn’t a family member?” 

Craig shakes his head quickly. “We asked if he was. He said he was just a volunteer.” 

“Well that’s a relief. Not that it matters much now. Whittmore’s accounts are almost completely drained. He won’t be useful for much longer. You gave him the stronger dose today didn’t you?” 

“He was yelling about his son this morning before we gave it to him. He hasn’t said a thing since then, just like the others.” 

Steve’s blood runs cold. He clenches his fist and bites down on his tongue until blood pools in his mouth. He wants to beat the living daylights out of the men in the room. He holds himself back by silently making a promise to make them regret every messing with Willy. 

The boss, (Steve suddenly remembers the name on the sign out front is Nathan Fields), nods at Craig and Stuart. “We need to lay low for a few days. I had to let go of a few employees. A loudmouthed nurse and her bitch of a supervisor wouldn’t shut up about Whittmore. I had Tiffany take over reception, so she can keep an eye on the volunteers. We don’t want anyone poking their nose around here, so if you don’t want your bonuses to dry up I suggest you keep your heads down and yours ears open.” Nathan gives them one last hard look, and strides out of the room. 

Steve has just enough time to duck into the sleeping patients’ room and hide behind the door, before Nathan walks by. He waits until he can no longer hear footsteps and the TV has been unmuted before he chances looking back out into the hallway. He makes sure the nurses are absorbed in the TV again, and then slips past the doorway and into the stairwell. 

Its as easy to get out as it was to get in. The first floor is busy as nurses push patients back to their rooms, but he easily blends into the crowd, careful to keep himself out of the receptionist’s, _Tiffany_ his mind supplies, line of sight. He walks calmly into the faculty parking lot, doesn’t stop until he’s in the alley next to the bakery. He strips off his jacket, pushes his glasses into his pocket, and runs his hands angrily through his hair. 

He spends a few minutes thinking before he sends off a few texts. 

_To **Buckaroo** : Mind if we have some company tonight?_

_To **Nat-Attack** : Can you meet me at mine ASAP? I think I could use your help. _

_To **BirdSam** : I think you might have been right. _

_To **Totally Awesome Tony** : Pizza at mine tonight. _

He shakes his head at his contacts, and makes a mental note to ask Sam how to change them later. Steve’s still figuring out all the different annoying things Tony programmed into it before he received it. He just learned how to change his ringtone from **Ice, Ice Baby** , but he hasn’t figured out how to change the fact that when other people call him, they hear **the Star Spangled Banner** instead of regular ringing. 

He starts walking back towards his bike, sifting through all the new information in his mind. Half of Steve feels obligated to report what he’s learned to the police, but the other half of Steve feels obligated to see this thing through personally. Willy deserves more than an over-worked, under-paid detective giving 1/4th of his attention to the case. Steve grins to himself. When he puts it that way, there really isn’t even a choice. Steve will figure this out himself, and the nursing home will get what’s coming to them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who leaves comments and kudos! This chapter is a little bit longer than the last few. I'm hoping to start stretching the chapters out, but we'll see what happens. Enjoy!

Steve feels his phone buzzing with incoming texts on his drive back home. He doesn’t bother to check his phone until after he’s pulled into the driveway, parking next to Sam’s car. 

_From **SamBird** : I’m picking up Natasha. See you at home._

_From **Buckaroo** : I’ll order pizza._

_From **Totally Awesome Tony** : You know the way to a man’s heart, Cap._

There isn’t a text from Natasha, but he’s not expecting one. He grabs his jacket out of his bag and heads to Sam’s front door. It’s routine for anyone who’s visiting to wait in Sam’s apartment for Steve to bring them upstairs so they don’t overwhelm Bucky. 

He doesn’t bother to knock before he enters, they all know what his motorcycle sounds like. He smiles at the sight that greets him. Sam, Natasha, and Bucky are all gathered around the kitchen counter, a half-full box of donuts from Bucky’s favorite bakery placed in front of them. Bucky holds out a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles as Steve approaches. 

”Eat first, explain after.” Sam says, leaning on counter. 

Steve rolls his eyes, but takes the donut, finishing it in two bites. He hands his cell phone to Natasha. “Can you put the pictures on the computer? I want you all to see these.” 

Natasha takes his phone silently and heads to the living room where Sam’s laptop sits on the coffee table. She boots it up, takes a cord out of her purse that’s sitting on the couch, and connects the phone to the laptop. 

“It’s password protected,” Sam starts making his way towards her, stopping when Natasha starts tapping the keys and his home screen is displayed. “What am I saying, of course you know my password. What was I thinking?” 

Natasha sends Sam a smirk over her shoulder. “Because ‘Falcon1234’ was extremely difficult to guess.” 

Steve and Bucky laugh while Sam glares at them. “Oh like you can talk, Steve. I know for a fact your password is CaptainIcicle.” 

“Tony set up all my passwords! I didn’t pick them!” Steve exclaims, glaring at Bucky who’s doubled over from laughter. 

“It’s pretty convenient that you blame Stark for everything technology related.” Natasha says loftily. Steve glares at her as the computer beeps. “They’re uploaded.” She maximizes the pictures as the rest of them gather around the computer. 

“What exactly are we looking at here?” Bucky asks, eyeing the form that lists Willy’s medications. “Wait, I know what some of these are.” His brows furrow. “Diazepam is a sedative. Does Willy suffer from insomnia?” 

“Not according to his medical file. His chart doesn’t indicate any serious medical conditions, and he never mentioned having problems sleeping.” Steve replies. “Is it used for anything else?” 

“Short term effects include amnesia and confusion. Long term use can cause serious memory problems and addiction.” Natasha says grimly. “The KGB would slip some in the drink of a mark before they were interrogated. It made them more compliant, with the bonus of making them forget afterward.” 

Steve’s jaw creaks from how hard he has it clenched. “Well that would certainly explain why Willy thought I was his son.” 

Natasha nods as she continues to flip through the pictures. She stops on the close ups of Willy’s bank account information. “If his bank account is this empty, how does he afford to stay there?” 

Sam leans over her shoulder to get a better look. “They shouldn’t have this kind of information. There are policies against looking into a client’s financials. How did they even get this stuff?” 

“That’s the thing. I dropped off a few of Willy’s social security checks myself, and the balance was a lot higher.” He points to one of the account numbers. “Willy’s wife set this up for the sole purpose of paying for the nursing home. It’s like the money was just drained over night!” 

“Well, it wouldn’t be that hard to steal his money.” Natasha clicks back to the picture of the first page of Willy’s file. “This lists his social security number, his bank account numbers are listed, and that’s enough for a wire transfer. If they gave this guy a sedative and asked him a few simple questions, they could have the answers to any security questions the bank might ask.” 

“I heard the owner talking to the nurses from the third floor today. He admitted to firing Karen and her supervisor for asking questions about Willy. He said Willy wouldn’t be of use much longer because his accounts are almost empty.” 

Sam crosses his arms over his chest. “This sounds like something you need to report to police.” 

Steve has a million arguments ready, but it’s Bucky who speaks up. “We don’t have proof of anything besides what is obviously unethical keeping of records. There’s obviously a doctor prescribing the meds they’re giving to Willy, which means we can’t prove they’re drugging him. If this asshole is stealing Willy’s money, he’s probably rich enough to hire a really good lawyer, and a really good lawyer will make any charges the cops manage to bring against him drop. No, if anyone is going to help Willy, it’s got to be us. This probably isn’t the first time they’ve done this either.” 

Steve gives Bucky a grateful smile. “Bucky’s right. Besides, Willy is my friend. I need to see this through, for him.” 

Tony chooses that moment to make his grand entrance. He doesn’t bother to knock, just shoves the door open, and leans against the open doorframe. “Honey, I’m home!” 

Steve rolls his eyes and motions Tony inside, automatically moving to the side as Bucky circles around the couch so he’s between Steve and the wall. Tony’s desire to get his hands (and tools) on Bucky’s mechanical arm makes Bucky uncomfortable, so he avoids physical contact with Tony as much as possible. 

“Thanks for coming, Tony.” Steve says as Tony struts into the living room. 

“I was promised food.” Tony drops onto the couch. “Yet I see none in here.” 

“I ordered it an hour ago, but six pizzas takes a while. Should be here any minute.” Bucky nods at Tony in greeting. 

“So why the sudden meeting, Cap? Did you miss my beautiful face? Or did you forget how the coffee maker works again? I printed out the instructions for you.” 

Natasha drops the computer onto Tony’s lap. “See for yourself.” 

The doorbell rings as Tony plugs a USB into the computer. Sam waves Steve off, and goes to get the pizza himself. “I got it.” 

Tony hooks a bluetooth piece to his ear. “Okay, Jarvis what am I looking at.” 

“You carry Jarvis around with you?” Steve asks in bewilderment. 

“Why read things yourself, when someone else can do it for me.” Tony smirks. “Go ahead, Jarvis.” 

“They appear to be the medical records of one William Whittmore senior, resident of Pine View nursing home. Also pictured are bank accounts belonging to Mr. Whittmore, and their current balances.” Jarvis’ voice is clear and precise as always, easily carrying to everyone in the room. 

“Okay.” Tony clicks the pictures rapidly. “And we’re looking at some old guy’s medical and financial records because?” 

“He’s not just some old guy, he’s a friend. And there is something seriously wrong going on there. They have him taking medications he doesn’t need, and his bank accounts are suddenly almost empty when they were full a few weeks ago.” Steve explains. 

Tony looks sharply at Steve, taking the plate with a slice of pepperoni when Sam thrusts it under his nose. “Someone’s stealing for an old guy at a nursing home? That is low.” 

“Not just anyone.” Bucky says around a mouthful of Hawaiian. “We think it’s the owner.” 

“He’s not just stealing either. He’s drugging him too, probably to get the information he needs to rob him blind.” Natasha offers, smiling at Sam who hands her a plate with two slices of vegetarian. 

“So why are you showing it to me, and not say, the cops? You know, the people who are paid to investigate this kind of thing.” Tony is giving Steve a look Bucky likes to call his, _how are you even alive_ look. Tony reserves it for when he thinks Steve is being a special kind of stupid. “I am not a paid investigator, though I could probably play one on TV.” 

“I want to have more evidence before I involve the police.” Steve comforts himself with the fact it’s not a _complete_ lie. He wants more evidence, whether he takes it to the police or not. 

“So what do you need me for? Before I even got here you already had the world’s greatest spy and the world’s greatest assassin.” Tony shrugs. “And Sam.” 

“Thanks Tony, I appreciate that.” Sam leans over and pats Tony roughly on the back. 

“You have resources that I don’t.” Steve states plainly. 

“Like money and computer skills that go beyond being able to turn it on and off?” 

Steve resists the urge to punch Tony in the face. He grabs Bucky’s arm when it looks like Bucky might not be resisting whatever urge he's having. “Yes, exactly like those.” 

“Fine, no need to beg. What do you want me to do?” 

“To start with, I want a complete record of Willy’s financials. I want to know where his money went, and who took it. I also want Pine View’s financial records, and their patient logs. If there are any news articles about it or complaints filed against them, I want to know.” 

Tony’s grin widens. “Oooh, this is going to be fun.” 

∞ 

Steve and the others give Tony some space to work as they sit around and demolish the pizzas. They chat quietly as Tony converses with Jarvis and types rapidly on the computer. At one point he heads outside and returns with a second laptop which he connects to Steve’s, and hums happily to himself as he switches back and forth between the computers. 

“He’s sort of scary when he’s working.” Bucky murmurs in Steve’s ear, chest pressed against Steve’s back, arm wrapped around his waist. 

Steve chuckles quietly, loving the feeling of Bucky’s stubble brushing his cheek. “I think you could take him.” 

Bucky huffs in mock anger, rubs his stubble firmly against Steve’s neck until it turns bright red. “You think? He could be wearin’ his fancy metal suit, and I could still take him.” 

“Buck, cut that out. The nurses at the hospital can’t look at me without giggling when you leave stubble burn.” Steve swats Bucky lightly on the arm. 

“You love when I leave stubble burn on you.” Bucky practically growls in Steve’s ear, his voice so low it sends shivers down Steve’s spine. 

“You do know there are other people in the room with you two, right?” Sam’s voice makes Steve jump. Bucky doesn’t let go though, actually tightens his arm, and places a gentle kiss on the side of Steve’s neck. 

“You don’t hafta watch.” Bucky grumps, releasing Steve and stepping back. 

Steve sighs at the loss, shooting Sam an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” 

“I was enjoying the view.” Natasha wiggles her eyebrows at them, causing Steve to laugh and Bucky to smirk. 

Steve cuts Bucky off before he makes, what he’s sure will be, an extremely lewd comeback. “Got anything, Tony?” 

“You mean besides a headache from digging through mountains of pointless information?” He laughs at Steve’s unimpressed look. “Yeah, I got something. You’re not going to like it though.” He unhooks the laptop he brought with him and connects it to the TV. “Jarvis, pull up the bank records.” 

The screen fills with file after file. Steve blinks at the amount of numbers the screen is displaying. “What exactly are we looking at?” 

“Do you want the short version or the long version?” 

“The version that we’ll all understand, please.” Sam retorts. 

“You take the fun out of everything.” Tony sniffs. “What you’re looking at is the place your friend’s money has been going.” He puts two pages side by side on the screen. “Here you have Willy’s account statement. Twice a week there is a wire transfer of $9,999 from his account to another account. This has been happening for the last eight weeks. That, along with the payment registered to the nursing home every two weeks, is why his accounts are almost empty.” 

“That’s a pretty specific number being taken out.” Bucky point out. 

“It’s because transfers of $10,00 or above are flagged by the bank.” Natasha explains. 

“Who is the money going to?” Steve asks. 

“Well, that’s the thing. The money is going to an account set up for a dummy corporation registered in the Cayman Islands. Theoretically, I could track down who set up that account, but I would need more than two crappy laptops and Jarvis’ limited field capabilities.” 

Tony runs his hand through his hair. “I can tell you that Pine View’s financials are clean, and I mean squeaky clean. Every penny is accounted for. There are no serious registered complaints, just your average ones about food selection and not enough bingo, but nothing substantial. I took the liberty of downloading all the patients’ files to Jarvis’ servers, but it’ll take me a while to get through them, and I doubt they’ll be that helpful.” 

“So we don’t know much more than we did earlier.” Steve frowns. 

“The kind of information you’re looking for is probably only kept on paper records. Technology can be hacked, but these kind of records are probably locked in a file cabinet in an office somewhere. It’d be much harder to get to them.” Tony spreads his hands, shrugs his shoulder. “I can keep digging.” He offers. 

“I don’t know, you do have ‘the world’s best spy’, how hard can it be to get some files?” 

Steve grins as Natasha smirks. “Probably not harder than taking down S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

Natasha’s smirk grows wider. “Definitely less hard, but probably more fun.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one! I had it finished yesterday, but I wasn't near a computer so it's a day late. The good news is I already have a good chunk of the next chapter written. Thanks again to everyone who comments or leaves kudos. Feel free to drop by my tumblr if you ever want to talk about Captain America, or leverage, or anything. I have the same username.Enjoy! =)

Tony leaves not long after with a mocking salute, his laptop tucked under his arm, and copies of every picture and file. He makes vague promises about dropping by the hospital as he walks out the door, muttering commands to Jarvis the whole time. 

“That guy is so weird.” Bucky says, reclining back on the couch. 

Steve shrugs. “Can’t argue with that.” 

“I’m just glad he’s on our side.” Sam replies. “And that he’s willing to bank roll us.” 

“Amen to that.” Bucky slides over to make room for Steve. “So what’s the plan?” 

“Well, going on what we have, I think we need to send someone inside.” Steve drops onto the couch, leaning into Bucky’s side. “How exactly we do that, is better left off to Natasha.” 

“Well there are a couple of options.” Natasha leans forward so she can look Steve in the eye. “Option one: I go in by myself, sneak into the owner’s office, and steal the files.” 

Steve frowns. “I don’t think that’s the best idea. We don’t know yet if there are more victims besides Willy, and it would be hard to walk out of there with every patient file.” 

“Option two is I go in as someone looking for a place for my mom to live, I get the owner to show me around, and try to get any information I can out of him. If I get the chance, I hack into their server and download their files.” 

Steve wavers, thinking it through. “That doesn’t solve our problem that they’re probably hiding information on paper files.” 

“What if she doesn’t go alone?” Sam asks. 

Natasha looks at Sam thoughtfully. “That’s an idea. You could play my husband helping me through the tough decision of shipping my mother off to a home. I can distract the owner and you can sneak into the office. Steve’s right about stealing the files, but you can get pictures of them. Do you think you could pull it off?” 

Sam pretends to think about it for a moment. “Let’s see, I helped Captain America save the world. I think I can pretend to be your husband and break into one office.” 

“Getting a little full of yourself there.” Steve snorts. 

“You’re not going to send them alone, are you?” Bucky is a tense line against Steve’s back. “What if someone finds Sam breaking in?” 

“Natasha and Sam are more than capable of taking care of themselves.” Steve leans more firmly against Bucky’s chest. 

“That doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have someone watching their backs.” 

Steve can feel Bucky’s frown against the back of his neck. “Natasha?” 

“It’d be nice to have back-up.” Natasha shrugs. “I’m not sure how we’d explain Bucky being there.” 

“I could become a volunteer.” Bucky suggests. 

“That’ll only allow you access to the first floor.” Steve points out. 

Bucky waves the hand not wrapped around Steve’s waist. “Can’t Stark make me an ID or something, get me an all access pass?” 

“It’s possible. He could hack in, list you as an employee.” Natasha pulls out her phone. “I’ll text him.” 

“I think we should probably wait to see what else Tony can get for us, before we finalize any plans.” 

Natasha rises smoothly, shrugging her jacket on. “See you, boys. I’ve got a date.” 

“Tell Clint hi from us!” Steve calls, laughing when she flips them off over her shoulder. 

“I talked to HR at the VA today. They said they could use a good nurse for the rehab center. I gave them your friend’s name, told them to be on the lookout for her resume.” Sam mentions as Steve and Bucky stand to leave. 

Steve leans down and pulls Sam into a hug. “Thanks, I’ll let Karen know.” 

Bucky waves and then bodily drags Steve upstairs with him. 

∞ 

Steve’s phone wakes them up at 4:30 in the morning. It takes Steve five minutes to wiggle out of Bucky’s hold, and by the time he reaches his phone (inconveniently placed on the dresser across the room) his phone has started blasting music for the third time. He picks it up and practically growls into it, “What?!” 

“Hey Cap! Happy Cappy! Mon Capitan!” Tony’s voice is loud and cheerful. 

“Jesus, Stark. It’s five in the morning.” Steve walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him, hoping Bucky will continue to sleep. 

“Is it?” Tony’s voice sounds slightly far away, like he has Steve on speaker, and the sound of typing can be heard in the background. “Jarvis, why didn’t you tell me not to call him right now?” 

Steve can hear a Jarvis faintly over the phone. “I did, sir. You ignored me.” 

“That sounds like me.” 

“Tony! Did you call for a reason?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, rubs slow circles on right temple where a headache is beginning to form. 

“Of course I did!” The sound of typing increases vigorously, before Tony’s voice is abruptly closer. “First off, I got Natasha’s text. I have, in my possession, an ID belonging to one James Rogers, registered aid at Pine View nursing home.” 

Steve can hear the smirk in Tony’s voice. “James Rogers?” 

“Well, I couldn’t list him as Bucky Barnes now could I? It’s not like the two of you aren’t practically married anyway. Which reminds me, Cap, you know it is the year 2015, if you two wanted to get married-“ 

“That’s not the only reason you called Tony, what else have you got for me?” Steve interrupts before Tony can finish. He doesn’t need Tony’s advice. He already has a ring hidden downstairs in Sam’s sock drawer, now he’s just waiting for the right time. 

Tony blows a raspberry. “Fine, I won’t bring up the marriage thing.” He pauses. “I registered online as an ordained minister while I was waiting for the files to download, just in case you’re ever in need of that type of service.” He continues before Steve can interrupt again. 

“As I was saying, I downloaded some information on Nathan Fields, the owner. He has quite the interesting history. Before he bought the nursing home, he ran a rehab facility in Syracuse. I don’t have much on the rehab itself, however I can tell you that there was a class action lawsuit against the owner. The case itself is sealed, but don’t worry, Jarvis is working on unsealing it as we speak. It does look like Fields’ shelled out some major money to make the whole thing go away. It appears Fields just closed up shop after the lawsuit, and turned around and bought Pine View.” 

“That is interesting. How long until we know what the case was about?” 

Tony hums in thought. “If I drink a few more cups of coffee, and add my considerable skills to Jarvis’ decryption program, maybe two hours?” 

“You need to get some sleep, Tony. Let Jarvis take care of it, we have some time.” Steve warns gently. “You promised to stop by the hospital, and you can’t do that if you haven’t slept.” 

“Sleep is for the weak.” Tony quips, but his voice is softer, like he’s starting to come down from his research high. 

“Go to sleep, Tony.” Steve hangs up before Tony can argue. He cracks open his bedroom, and peeks inside. Bucky is splayed out on Steve’s side of the bed, comforter wrapped around him like a cocoon, fast asleep. Steve smiles and shuts the door. 

He’s too awake to go back to sleep, and too wired to stay in the apartment. He knows Sam hates to get up before 6 if he doesn’t have too, so Steve decides to go for a run by himself. He keeps some running clothes in the hall closet for exactly this type of occasion, so he slips on some sweats and a t-shirt, ties his running shoes, and heads out. 

He starts off at an easy pace, the one he uses when he wants to keep pace with Sam. It allows him to think over everything he knows about Pine View. He lists the problems in his head as he runs. 

_1\. Willy’s money is being stolen._

 _2\. Willy is being drugged._

 _

3\. The owner is obviously a super shady character, and an asshole. 

4\. What happens when Willy’s accounts are completely drained? 

_

Steve turns number four over and over in his head. He can’t imagine that the nursing home will be able to get Willy’s son to continue paying for the treatment, but he also can’t imagine the owner letting Willy stay there for free. But what other options are there? He knows there is another option, one so dark that Steve refuses to think it. If Willy isn’t the first person they’ve done this to, and it definitely seems like he isn’t, then they must have a system in place for victims once they’ve been drained of all their money. Steve picks up his pace. 

He runs until the sun is shining brightly overhead, and then stops by a mom and pop diner for breakfast take out before heading home. Bucky is reading on the couch when Steve drops their breakfast onto the kitchen table. 

“Mornin’, Buck.” He drops a kiss on the top of Bucky’s head as he makes his way to shower. 

Steve showers quickly, humming along to the music drifting in from the living room. BY the time he’s dressed and toweling his hair dry, Bucky has worked his way through two of the take-out containers, and is starting in on a third. “Did you leave any for me?” 

Bucky slowly takes his fork out of the third container. “Yes?” 

Steve laughs, slapping Bucky on the ass with his towel as he walks past him. “Those are yours. I put mine in the fridge.” He takes out two more containers and a bottle of orange juice. “Tony has an ID ready for you.” 

Bucky groans. “Please tell me he didn’t give me some stupid fake name?” He takes in the blush rising on Steve’s cheeks. “Stevie?” 

Steve fiddles with the orange juice cap, stuffs a huge bite of pancakes into his mouth to buy some time. “I wouldn’t call it stupid.” He swallows thickly. 

Bucky raises his eyebrows and leans back against the counter. “Now I have to know. C’mon Rogers, give up the goods.” He chuckles lowly as Steve’s blush darkens. “Get your mind out of the gutter, baby.” 

“Bucky!” Steve hisses, turning away as his face burns even hotter. He can feel the blush spreading down his neck to his chest. 

“Sorry, sugar. You’re just so easy sometimes.” He pauses for a second, purses his lips. “All the time, really.” 

“Do you wanna know the name Stark picked or not?” Steve growls, spinning around to glare at Bucky. 

Bucky waves a hand magnanimously. “Yeah, yeah. What did he pick?” 

“James Rogers.” Steve says, quickly shoving a few more bites into his mouth. 

Bucky looks delighted. “Well isn’t that swell.” 

Steve files Bucky’s reaction away in the back of his mind for later. 

“You think Stark is trying to tell us somethin’?” Bucky wiggles his eyebrows salaciously. “You makin’ an honest man outta me, Stevie?” 

Steve shoves the last few bites of food into his mouth, and hums vaguely in response. Natasha was right, he’s a terrible liar. 

Bucky laughs as he hops onto the counter. “So when do I get to start?” 

Steve is stopped from answering by a knock on the door. He puts his empty container down and goes to the door, remembering to check through the peephole ( _Don’t just open the door! Goddamnit Steve. Hydra could be waiting on the other side and you’re just going to greet them with a smile!_ ) before opening it. 

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” 

Sam holds out a package. “Some Stark employee just dropped this off downstairs. I’m heading to the VA, but keep me updated on the plan.” He waves over Steve’s shoulder to Bucky before jogging back down the stairs. 

Steve turns the package over in his hands as he shuts the door. Bucky comes to stand behind him, looking over his shoulder as Steve tears the package open. Inside is a folded piece of paper and a shiny ID badge. 

Bucky grins and takes the ID. “At least he chose a good picture. What’s that?” 

Steve rolls his eyes and hands the note over to Bucky. 

_See you at the hospital Don’t say I never did anything for you. Tell lover boy not to kill anyone. The ID is good, but it won’t stand up to a police investigation. I will not bail him out._

Bucky snorts. “He would bail me out. All you’d have to do is give him the sad orphan Annie eyes.” 

Steve glares and jabs his elbow back into Bucky’s ribs. “I guess you can start today.” 

Bucky’s grin becomes sharp. “Awesome.”


	7. Chapter 7

Bucky practically pushes Steve out the door in his to excitement to get started with _’totally awesome spy shit'_ Steve only has time to grab the box of stuffed animals he’s been saving for the kids at the hospital and force Bucky into an extra pair of scrubs Steve has lying around ( _You have to look the part, Buck. Yes, you can keep the knives. No Buck, leave the hand grenades. It’s a nursing home, not Nazi Germany_ ) before they’re out the door. 

Steve keeps a Prius for transporting items too big to fit into the side bags on his motorcycle. It was a gift from Tony, and he has a suspicious feeling Tony was expecting him to hate it. It comes in handy, and gets great mileage, so he’s not sure what there is to hate about it. 

Bucky concentrates on getting the thin piece of covering over his metal arm on the drive to the nursing home. It matches his skin tone exactly and has the benefit of being light weight enough to not limit his range of motion. It’s Steve’s favorite gift from Tony, because it helps Bucky relax when they’re out in public. 

Steve keeps the radio on low and focuses on breathing slowly and evenly. He can hear Bucky’s breathing match his, and can see that his shoulders have lost a lot of the tension they tend to carry when they’re out of the house. Steve pulls into the faculty parking lot and hits the park button. 

Bucky pulls his hair into a messy bun, straightening his shoulders. “How do I look?” 

Steve lets his eyes roam over Bucky, smirking. “You make a hot nurse.” 

“I make a hot everything.” Bucky drawls, leaning over and giving Steve a quick kiss. “Okay, time for me to bring home the bacon. Bye, honey.” 

Steve waits until Bucky has gotten out the car and is a few feet away before he rolls down the window and hollers, “Make good choices!” He cackles when Bucky turns to give him the finger with both hands. He waves and he backs out, heading to the hospital. 

He hits the speaker button on his steering wheel. “Call Karen.” He fidgets with the volume as it rings. He’s use to interacting with Jarvis, but giving orders to his car is still weird. 

“Hello?” Karen’s voice is slightly muffled by the speakers. 

“Hey Karen, it’s Steve. How’s it going?” 

“I’ve been better. Monica called and told me she was fired too. Another nursing home already hired her thankfully, so she’s not too upset. Do you know what’s going on there?” 

“I’m still working on it. I do have good news though. My friend at the VA talked to their HR department, and they just so happen to be hiring. They’re on the lookout for your resume.” 

Steve can hear the relief in her voice when she thanks him. “Don’t worry about it, Karen. I’ll get this thing with Pine View settled, you have my word.” She thanks him profusely before Steve hangs up as he pulls into the hospital parking lot. 

He’s just getting locking his car door when Tony pulls up in a corvette next to him. Tony gives the Prius a disdainful look as he gets out of his car carrying a briefcase. 

“You left the suit at home? Color me impressed.” Steve says, clapping Tony on the back. 

Tony snorts. “Of course not. The kids love the suit. I thought I’d show them how I get into the suit.” He pats the briefcase. 

“It’s not dangerous, is it? I’ve seen the videos of you testing the mobile version of your suit.” Steve raises his eyebrows, ushering Tony through the front doors of the hospital. 

“Those were _tests_.” He stresses the word, shooting his most winning smile to the nurse at the front desk. He swaggers to the desk, leaning his hip against it, and smiles at Maryann. “Hello. Iron Man and Captain Stick in the Mud, here to see the children of New York.” 

Steve has never seen Maryann completely speechless before. He’s impressed that Tony is able to garner this reaction. “Good mornin’, Maryann. Mind if we head on up to the playroom?” He shifts the box of stuffed animals in his arms. 

“Of course, Mr. Stark, Steve, go right ahead.” Maryann says, flustered. 

Tony smirks at Steve over his shoulder as they head to the elevator, clearly pleased with himself. “Yeah, _Steve_ , you and me, _Mr. Stark_ can head on up.” 

Steve tries, and fails, to resist rolling his eyes while Tony chuckles to himself, smile looking vaguely maniacal. “Yeah, it’s not like I come here a few times a week or anything. Clearly she is awe of the great Tony Stark, the real life version of the tin man.” He mutters just loud enough for Tony to hear. 

Tony looks deeply offended as the elevator doors open on the pediatric floor, but it stopped from saying anything about it because of the swarm of nurses waiting in front of them. He gives Steve a quick glare, and pastes a charming smile on his face. “Hello, medical staff of this wonderful hospital. I heard there was someone special coming to visit the children.” 

Steve huffs and pushes past Tony, smiling at the nurses as he passes, heading to the playroom at the end of the hall. He can hear Tony talking quickly as he catches up right as they walk through the playroom doors. 

Fifteen children are already seated on one half of the room, talking happily to one another. The staff tries to stagger groups of children, so there aren’t too many in the room at the same time, to keep Steve from being overwhelmed and to help lessen the spread of any infections or viruses. Steve grins widely, placing the box on a table near the door. 

The kids start yelling as soon as they spot Steve and Tony. Once a month Steve comes in the uniform, but he visits more often without it, so all of the children recognize him on sight. The few kids not hooked up to oxygen tank or IV poles rush Steve immediately. He hugs each of them individually, nods along to everything they’re chattering at him, too many voices speaking at once for him to know what they’re saying individually. After the first rush of kids turn away from Steve, he speaks up. “Hey guys! I brought my friend Tony to visit today. I think you might know him better as Iron Man!” He steps back as Tony steps forward. 

Tony talks to children the way he would to another adult. The tone of his voice doesn’t get higher the way Steve’s does, nor does he make everything sound fun and exciting the way Steve tries to. Tony just waves and says hello, places his briefcase down and tells the kids he has a special treat for them. 

Steve goes to sit amongst the kids watching Tony with looks of awe on their faces. He squeezes himself next to Maria, a little girl he met two months ago when she had her fourth spinal surgery, and who is back for her fifth. He kisses her cheek, and lifts his arm for Nick, a three year old with leukemia, to snuggle under. 

“Sometimes when Iron Man is needed, I’m not at home, so I had to make a portable version of him. I’m going to show you how that works.” Tony explains. Some of the kids look confused, but Tony pushes through. “I’m going to open my briefcase here,” he pats the briefcase, “and then I’ll become Iron Man.” 

Steve gives him points for trying to dumb down his explanation. 

Tony opens the briefcase, gives a command (Steve is momentarily confused by who he’s talking to before he faintly hears Jarvis respond), and pieces of the suit fly out of the briefcase and attach themselves to Tony’s body. Steve has to admit he is as impressed as the children seem to be, judging by the yelling and clapping deafening him. Steve is sure that Tony is smirking from under the Iron Man helmet. 

Tony lifts the face plate and explains different parts of the armor, what the propulsion system is like, how Jarvis communicates with him, and gives a very, very brief demonstration of the flight capabilities, before the suit disassembles itself. 

Once Tony has snapped the briefcase closed and the children have stopped screaming their excitement, Steve heads back to the front of the room, Nick perched on his hip, and opens his box. Inside sit 30 Captain America teddy bears. Steve makes a mental note to order some Iron Man bears for next time. 

“Everybody, let’s thank Iron Man for coming out today!” He waits while the kids scream thank you. “Now, I know it isn’t as cool as the Iron Man suit, but I did bring you all something today. You can pick one out on the way back to your room.” 

Out of the corner of his eye he can see several nurses sigh in relief that it won’t become a free for all with fifteen children racing to have the first present. He flashes the nurses a grin. He learned his lesson the first time he brought the children toys, it’s a mistake he will never make again. 

“Before Iron Man and I leave, how about we teach Iron Man the secret mantra?” Steve suggests. “On the count of three, everybody say it!” 

Steve counts to three, holding Nick tightly against his hip as the kid bounces in excitement. All at once the room is filled with children shouting, “I’m a fighter and Captain America has my back!” 

“That’s right, I do.” Steve grins down at the kids, leaving Nick for last. “Now, I have to go. Captain America has to help Iron Man keep the streets safe for when you guys leave. I’ll see you all soon.” He hands Nick to a waiting nurse. He and Tony wave one last time before leaving. 

“Cute mantra.” Tony smirks, pushing the button for the elevator. 

Steve wills himself not to blush. “It was Bucky’s idea.” 

Tony barks out a laugh. “Of course it was. If anyone is the poster child for ‘Captain America has my back’, it’s Barnes.” 

Steve grins and doesn’t deny it. They both wave to Maryann as they pass through the lobby and out of the hospital. When they’re right next to their cars, Steve breaks their companionable silence. “Thanks for coming out today, Tony. The kids were really happy to have you here.” 

Tony shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal. Pepper is always on my case to better my public image.” 

Steve resists the urge to point out that the public has no idea Tony Stark stopped by to visit sick children at a hospital. “Still, I’m glad you came.” 

Tony spins his keys around on his finger. “I figured if I did it would give me an opportunity to tell you what Jarvis decrypted.” 

“Jarvis got the case unsealed?” 

“In a matter of speaking.” Tony hedges. “The point is, that I now know what the case was about.” He hesitates. 

“Just tell me.” Steve urges. 

“It was a wrongful death suit. For three patients of rehab facility. The families claimed neglect, a few of the nurses and aids from the rehab were fired, and the owner shelled out a couple million dollars in hush money.” 

Steve can barely hear what Tony is saying over the rushing in his head. He can feel anger and worry burning through his body, making him grit his teeth. “He covered up the deaths of three people.” 

“That wasn’t the worst part.” Tony shifts his weight uncomfortably. “I looked through the nursing home files checking for anything similar. I found two suspicious deaths. They were both from people living on the third floor.” 

“Can you call Natasha?” Steve asks, already dialing Sam’s number. “Tell her the time table’s moved up.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's about to go down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm sorry for taking so long to post, a lot of stuff kept me from writing and posting this sooner, and from now on I'll probably have to stick to a schedule since my ability to get on the internet is no longer guaranteed. This chapter is almost like an intermission. It's written entirely from Bucky's point of view. The next chapter will cover what happened with Sam and Nat during the same time frame. I just decided to break it into two different points of view. There isn't even a scene break. Thanks again to everyone who leaves a comment, kudos, subscribes, or bookmarks. It really does make my day.

Bucky thinks he could get used to this spy shit. No one questions his presence, just accepts him as if he’s been working at the home forever. Being around so many people doesn’t even grate on his nerves. Mostly because the majority of the people are elderly and therefore pose no threat, but also because he isn’t Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier here, he’s James Rogers, employee. 

He smiles to himself as he sweeps the hospital. All three floors have the same basic layout, but where the first floor is crawling with nurses, volunteers, patients, and visiting family members, the 2nd floor has less than half that amount of people milling around, and the 3rd floor has exactly two non-patients on it. Bucky starts his sweep on the first floor. He pushes a linen cart around, smiling at nurses as he counts cameras. 

There are a few in every hallway, four clustered around the front doors and visitor sign-in desk, two in the kitchen, three in the cafeteria, and one facing the door leading to the faculty parking lot. The nurses and volunteers all seem genuinely happy with their jobs, and the patients appear well cared for and content. The only person out of place is the girl at the reception desk. Bucky stands just out of her line of sight, pretending to be focused on sorting the sheets on the cart He watches as different people approach the desk, notices how the girl pastes a fake smile on her face anytime someone comes up to her, but spends the rest of her time playing with her cell phone and scowling at the computer. He makes a mental note of her behavior before moving on. 

There isn’t anyone around the elevator when he exits on the second floor. There isn’t even a camera facing the elevator. Voices drift down the hallway to his right, but to his left Bucky only hears silence. He turns left, pushing the cart as quietly as possible. He doesn’t pass a single camera, patient, or employee as he walks, there aren’t even any doors. It’s just a long hallway that dead ends at a pair of glass double doors. Luckily, the office is empty. He peers through the glass, but of course there are no cameras. Apparently, criminals don’t want their crimes caught on tape. Bucky snorts to himself. 

The office is pretty lavish for a public servant. He doesn’t have any experience with nursing homes, but he assumes the employees don’t usually make enough for what appears to be a marble desk top, even if they own the place. He palms a towel and tries the handle, but it’s locked. He shrugs. Nat will take care of getting the files; he’s just here as back up. He memorizes the layout of the office, just in case, then turns and heads back down the hallway. 

Bucky whistles cheerily as he passes the elevator. The closer he gets to the voices, the more cameras he notices. There are a handful of nurses clustered around a large desk, and he can hear more moving around in the rooms, talking to patients, and delivering food trays. He pastes his most charming smile on his face (the one he **knows** makes Steve weak in the knees) and saunters up to the nurses’ desk. “How are you ladies doing today?” 

A few of the younger nurses stammer and blush, while two of the more experienced nurses give him a thorough once over. The older one, Bucky glances at her name tag, _Nadine_ , says, “I don’t think we’ve seen you around here before, are you new?” 

Bucky gives her his best innocent smile. “I mostly work on the first floor. I’m just here to deliver some towels and blankets.” He pats the linen cart. “I have to say, I was shocked at how empty this floor was, compared to the first floor.” 

Nadine gives the other nurses a stern look, at which they make themselves scarce. “This floor is temporary housing. Sort of a half-way house for folks getting ready to transfer to home health, hospice, or a hospital. Not as many staff members are needed on this floor.” 

“Is the third floor like that too? I haven’t been up there yet.” 

Nadine purses her lips, looks around the hallway before leaning against the counter closer to Bucky. “No one really knows anything about the third floor. It sounds kind of stupid, like our very own urban legend or something, but all I know is that the third floor has its own nurses, and we’re not supposed to go up there. My supervisor told us the patients are confused and don’t react well to new faces.” 

Bucky mimics Nadine’s posture. “You don’t think that seems weird?” 

Nadine leans back, chuckling. “Oh, it’s weird alright. But I’ve been doing this long enough now to know to keep my head down and my mouth shut. If you want to stick around for long, you should probably do the same.” 

Bucky makes small talk, something he’s only recently been able to do for any length of time, before handing over a pile of towels and blankets and making his exit. While he’s making his way to the elevator, he can see Nat and Sam exit with a man Bucky assumes is the owner. He slows his approach, waiting until they’re out of sight before getting in the elevator and hitting the button for the first floor. He can feel worry churning in his stomach. Nat and Sam weren’t supposed to be here today, so something must have happened for Steve to send them in early. 

Bucky decided to wait to check out the third floor. If he gets caught, he doesn’t want it to interfere with whatever Sam and Nat have planned. He checks the clock on the wall as he exits the elevator, deciding to take his lunch break. He heads out the employee entrance, dialing Steve’s number as he goes. He paces just out of sight of the perimeter cameras as the phone rings. 

“Hey, Buck, how’s it goin’?” 

“What happened?” Bucky doesn’t mean it for it to come out as panicked as it does. 

Steve’s voice goes softer. “What do you mean, Buck?” 

“I saw Sam and Natasha with the owner so I know something must have happened.” Bucky says quickly. 

“Oh, that.” Bucky can hear Steve shifting on the other end of the phone. “Tony unsealed the court files. It turns out the place Fields used to run was sued for wrongful death. There are a few suspicious deaths from Pine View, too. I didn’t want to wait any longer, so I asked Natasha and Sam to head over today. I guess I should’ve given you a heads up.” 

Bucky takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I haven’t had a chance to really check out the third floor yet. I was on my way when I saw Sam and Nat, and I didn’t want to mess up their plan.” 

“That’s probably a good idea. Are you on your lunch break?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Well, get something to eat and relax. You know Nat can handle it.” Steve says soothingly. 

“You tryin’ to get me off the phone, Rogers?” Bucky asks. 

“ ‘course not, Buck.” 

“ ‘cause I can think of few things we can do that would be more interesting than eating the shit they call food.” Bucky smirks. 

“You’re at work!” Steve’s voice is a little shaky. 

“Technically, I’m on break.” 

“Bucky!” Steve hisses. 

“What’re you wearin’, Stevie?” 

Steve inhales sharply. “I am not having phone sex with you, Buck!” 

Bucky chuckles. “I bet you’re blushin’ real pretty right now.” 

“I’m hanging up on you, now. Get back to work, jerk.” 

Bucky smiles as Steve disconnects. He goes back inside, grabbing some food from the cafeteria and pretending to eat it for an appropriate amount of time. When his break is over, he keeps close to front door, by grabbing some patients’ charts and reading through them, occasionally making nonsense notations. He keeps his head down when he hears Sam’s voice coming down the hallway. He watches Sam and Natasha shake hands with Fields, thanking him for the tour. Nat promises to call about her father, and they both leave. 

The smile Fields is wearing becomes a grin that gives Bucky a bad feeling as soon as Natasha and Sam are out of sight. He waits until Fields gets back on the elevator, before he drops off the charts at the nurses desk, and makes his way to the third floor. 

The only noise on the third floor is the noise coming from the TV in the breakroom. He squats and peeks around the door of the breakroom, noting both guys are fast asleep. Bucky rolls his eyes. He doesn’t spot a single camera as he walks down the hallway. He goes in every room he passes, checking on the patients, looking over and taking pictures of the charts hung at the end of their beds. Most of the patients are sleeping soundly, and the few that are awake are so confused and disoriented, Bucky knows they’ll have no concrete memory of him being there. Even if they did, who would they tell? Obviously, the staff doesn’t care about them. 

He lingers the longest at Willy’s bedside. Willy doesn’t wake the whole time Bucky is in his room, but Bucky thinks he can tell why Steve likes him so much. Willy looks like a kind grandfather, but from the stories he’s heard, he’s more of a wise-cracking spitfire. He wants to grip Willy’s shoulder, give a physical sign of his solidarity, but he doesn’t dare touch him, too afraid to wake him. 

The shrill ringing of a phone jerks Bucky out of his reverie. He drops to a crouch just inside the door, moving so just his eyes are visible around it. The phone at the empty nurses desk is ringing, and Bucky watches as one the nurses stumbles his way to it, picking it up. He can’t hear either side of the conversation, but the bad feeling in his stomach intensifies as the nurse hangs up, yells for Stuart, and they both head towards where Bucky is hiding. They argue as they approach. 

“Fields said he has a new patient heading this way, so we need to make a spot. Some couple wants to ship the father off to a home, says they never visit. They’re practically serving him up on a silver platter.” His nametag says Craig. 

The other one, Bucky assumes is Stuart, chuckles. “That’s great, but I don’t see why we have to take this one out. Can’t Fields get someone else to do this part? Dead bodies freak me out.” 

A chill goes down Bucky’s spine, as he ducks behind the door. He takes a deep breath, feeling his muscles tighten. 

“You should be used to them by now.” Craig huffs, the jackass. “Anyway, Fields says this is the last one for a while. He doesn’t want to draw any more attention. We just give Willy a nice big dose of this, wait half an hour, and then call it in. It’ll look like he went peacefully in his sleep.” 

Bucky waits until Stuart is all the way through the door, and Craig is hallway through, before he jolts upward and slams the door back into Craig, causing him to drop the syringe he’s holding. He kicks out catching Stuart in the gut, slamming his body into the door as Craig screams. 

Stuart crumples backwards, winded. Bucky pulls open the door and jerks Craig inside by his now broken arm. He pulls Craig into a chokehold as Stuart gets unsteadily to his feet. 

Bucky holds back a groan when Craig reaches back and gets a handful of Bucky’s hair, yanking it. Stuart lunges as Craig tries to bite into his metal arm. Bucky dislocates one of Stuart’s kneecaps with a well-placed kick, sending him back to the ground, this time screaming in agony. 

His arm makes a loud whirring noise as he adjusts his hold on Craig, tightening his grip. Craig kicks out desperately, throwing his weight back, sending them both into the wall. Bucky waits until Craig’s body goes limp, the fight draining out of him as he falls unconscious, before letting him drop next to a still screaming Stuart. Bucky resists the urge to snap Stuart’s neck, instead rearing back and punching him in the temple, knocking him out. 

He pulls out his phone, and texts Natasha. 

_To **Natasha** : Emergency pick-up. ASAP. _

Somehow, Willy and his roommate are still asleep, although Bucky figures it’s less of a miracle and more a side effect of the serious sedatives they’ve been pumping into Willy’s bloodstream. He hesitates, debating with himself, before gently picking Willy up. He’s not leaving him here to die. 

He finds an empty wheelchair in the hallway, and lowers Willy into it. He goes back into Willy’s room, ripping the top sheet into pieces, which he then uses to tie the hands and feet of the nurses. He wraps part of the sheet over their mouths, making sure their airways aren’t obstructed. He doesn’t want to kill them. Not yet at least. 

He grabs Willy’s wheelchair and pushes it quickly down the hall and into the elevator, stabbing the 1st floor button, until the doors close and it begins to move. Once the doors open, he takes a deep breath a merges into the flow of people moving around the hallways. He walks as quickly as he can, while still looking like everything is fine, heading straight towards the front door. Thankfully, the receptionist is still busy playing with her phone, and Bucky is able to slip out the front door, Willy in tow, without being stopped. 

Natasha is idling on the curb right outside. When she sees Bucky coming she jumps out, and comes around to open the back door of the explorer she’s driving. “You kidnapping people, now?” 

Bucky gently lifts Willy into the back of the car, laying him flat along the seat. “They were going to kill him.” 

Natasha raises an eyebrow, getting back into the driver’s seat as Bucky slams the passenger door closed behind him. “He drugged?” 

Bucky shrugs. “Probably. He slept through the fight.” 

“Okay.” Natasha says slowly. She tosses her phone to Bucky. “Can you pull up Bruce’s number? We might need him.” 

“You think is going to be mad?” He asks as he scrolls through the contacts, pressing send on Banner’s name. 

Natasha chuckles. “He’ll be something, alright.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little longer than expected to finish. All mistakes are mine. I ended up doing a flashback scene instead of writing what I thought I was going to. I hope it’s not too weird. A million thanks to everyone who comments or leaves kudos. Also, I’m from the south, so I have absolutely no idea how people talk in New York. I say y’all a lot, so not writing that as part of the dialogue was pretty tricky. I hope y’all are enjoying it as much as I’m enjoying writing it, because I think it might be close to the end.

Bruce is waiting outside of Sam’s apartment when Natasha pulls up. Natasha waves him off when he starts towards the vehicle, pulling open the back door for Bucky to reach in and grab Willy’s still unconscious form. 

“He’s not dead, right?” Bruce asks, hesitantly following Natasha and Bucky into the apartment. 

Steve leaps to his feet from where he was watching tv with Sam, rushing to Bucky’s side. “Oh my god, Buck! Did you kidnap him?” 

Bucky grunts, and lowers Willy carefully to the hastily vacated couch. “Sort of.” 

“So he’s not dead?” Bruce looks to Steve for confirmation. 

“Buck?” Steve turns to keep one eye on Bucky while he takes Willy’s pulse. 

“He’s drugged.” Natasha reassures Bruce. 

“I didn’t have a choice.” Bucky shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Bruce takes over checking Willy’s pulse from Steve. “You all do know I’m not a medical doctor, right?” 

“You’re the closest things we’ve got.” Sam interjects. 

“And the reason he’s not at a hospital or seeing a real doctor is?” Bruce asks, calmly pulling a stethoscope out of the bag he brought with him. 

“They were going to kill him.” 

Steve freezes mid motion. “What?” 

“He’s out of money, and apparently they needed to make room.” Bucky sidles closer to Steve, leaning his body against Steve’s in silent support. 

“Well at least we know they bought our story.” Sam grins at Natasha, who smirks back. 

“Was there ever any doubt?” 

“His breathing sounds fine, pulse is steady.” Bruce says, he feels along Willy’s throat, checks the blood flow in his fingers and toes, and starts taking his blood pressure. “Do you know what type of drug he’s on?” 

Sam pulls a flash drive out of his pocket. “I have a copy of his medical records.” 

“So you managed to break into his office?” Bucky gives Sam an impressed look. 

Bruce holds his hands up. “I don’t want to know. Please keep all mentions of illegal activity to yourselves, just tell me what I need to know.” 

“Here you go.” Sam holds out the laptop, Willy’s medical records already pulled up. 

Bruce hums thoughtfully as he scrolls through the charts. “There isn’t a listed disease that corresponds with a need for this type of medication.” He gives Steve a concerned look. “Is this his complete medical chart?” 

Steve shifts nervously. “Mmhmm.” 

Bucky shifts forward, angling his body in front of Steve’s as Bruce takes several deep calming breaths. Steve may trust Bruce, but Bucky hasn’t been around him enough to know he isn’t a threat. “He’s okay, right?” 

“His blood pressure is a little low, but not worryingly so. In fact, his pulse and breathing rate are fairly common for being on the amount of sedatives he is.” Bruce pauses to push his glasses up his nose. “I wouldn’t recommend him quitting the sedatives cold turkey, the suddenness of stopping could cause some awful withdrawal symptoms. He needs round the clock care right now.” 

“I have some friends at the hospital that might be willing to help out.” Steve runs a hand through his hair in thought. “We might need some fake paperwork for him though.” 

“And that’s my que. He should be fine with some care, and careful monitoring. If there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know.” Bruce gives them all a smile before showing himself out. 

“Let me go call some people I know, see if there isn’t an open room in the hospital.” Steve offers once Bruce has left. He walks off towards the kitchen, phone in hand. 

Bucky watches his back until it’s out of sight before turning to face Sam and Natasha. “Okay, so tell me what happened.” 

*FLASHBACK* 

_Natasha picks Sam up at the VA five minutes after Steve’s text. They spend the drive to the nursing home working out a backstory that they’ll both remember. Well, Natasha tells Sam the back story they’ll be using and Sam agrees, replaying it over and over in his head until he’s sure he’ll remember. Natasha smirks at the look of concentration on Sam’s face._

 _“Look, I’ll do most of the talking. All you have to focus on is looking like my doting husband.”_

 _

“What about copying the files?” Sam asks. 

Natasha roots around in the middle console for a minute, pulling out a flash drive. “Souvenir from my time at S.H.I.E.L.D. Plug it in, and it does the rest for you.” 

“And while you’re busy pretending to be a grieving daughter, you’ll also somehow manage to break into the owner’s office and get the files?” Sam arches an eyebrow at her, gripping the door as they make a sharp turn. 

“Good point. I’m not sure I trust your conning skills enough to leave distracting him up to you.” She taps a rapid beat on the steering wheel. “I’ll ask for a tour, and when I do, you need to get a very important phone call. I’ll keep him busy long enough for you to get the files.” 

“And the paper files?” 

She tosses him her phone. “I assume you know how to work a camera?” 

Sam rolls his eyes as they pull up. “I think I can figure it out.” He takes a deep breath as he gets out of the car, holding his hand out for Natasha as she rounds the vehicle. 

Natasha grins and grips his hand, leaning her body into his like it’s something they do every day. “Thanks, honey.” She smiles at him sweetly when he holds the door for her. 

Sam represses the urge to call her sweetie pie, or muffin, or honey buns, or every other annoying pet name crossing his mind. He switches his focus to the bored looking receptionist playing on her cell phone. 

The girl, Tiffany, looks up when Sam clears his throat, pasting on a fake smile and hastily shoving her phone under the desk. “Hello! How can I help you folks today?” 

“We were hoping we could speak to someone about my mother possibly staying here?” Natasha’s voice is polite, but is filled with disinterest, giving the impression she’d rather be anywhere else doing anything else. 

Sam watches Tiffany take in Natasha’s classy outfit and unmistakably expensive jewelry. “Of course! Let me just call Mr. Fields, the owner. He likes to talk to all perspective families personally.” She confides as she picks up the phone. 

Sam watches Natasha take notice of all cameras and exits while the girl speaks quickly into the phone. His heart pounds faster in his chest when Tiffany says, “Mr. Fields will be right down. Can I get you anything while you wait?” 

Natasha declines for the both of them. 

They wait in silence, out of the way of nurses pushing wheelchairs and visitors coming in through the front door. Sam swallows a snort when he catches Tiffany back on her phone, wrapping his arm around Natasha and leaning in to whisper, “It’s like the phone is glued to her hand.” 

Natasha pushes at Sam’s chest coyly, but doesn’t respond as the elevator doors open and an older gentleman in an obnoxiously expensive suit strides out of it. “Welcome! I’m Nathan Fields. How can I help you today, Miss?” 

“Wilson.” Natasha supplies, shaking his offered hand. “This is my husband, Sam.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Sam resists the impulse to crush Fields’ hand. 

“We were hoping you might have an opening for my mother. I’m afraid she hasn’t been doing well since my father died.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Wilson. Why don’t we discuss this in my office?” Fields offers, leading them back towards the elevator. 

“That would be perfect, thank you.” Natasha smiles. “This seems like a lovely place.” 

Fields’ attempts a gracious smile, but to Sam it looks more like a shark’s grin. “Thank you. We do the best we can. We have to provide for those who provided for us, after all.” Fields walks off the elevator ahead of them, leading them to his office, and waving them inside. 

Sam’s skin crawls at the obvious wealth displayed in his office. Natasha’s shoulders tighten and then relax just as quickly as she takes in the marble desk top. Fields offers them water, gesturing them to the seats in front of his opulent desk, before seating himself behind it when they both decline. 

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about your mother? I like to get to know my potential residents.” 

“My father died a few months ago, and Mother just hasn’t been the same since. My husband and I live in California, and Mother refuses to move out there with us. I don’t have to time to fly out here all the time to check on her, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving her on her own in that big house. It’s a good neighborhood, but what if some young hoodlums decide it would be an easy target?” Natasha shivers, and shakes her head. “No, she needs to be somewhere I know she’s safe and cared for.” 

Fields’ eyes darken with what Sam assumes is greed at the prospect of a wealthy client. “I completely understand. I hate to sound presumptuous,” Sam barely restrains an eye roll, “but I think this may be the perfect place for your mother. We have spacious one person rooms that can be filled with comforts from her home, so she won’t even know the difference. Our security is top notch, and we offer twenty four/seven visiting hours, so you can visit whenever you want.” 

“I’m afraid we won’t be visiting too often. We’re both very busy, and flying back and forth across the country is a hassle. That’s why we need to be sure we find the right place.” Natasha waves offhandedly. 

The glee that Fields barely hides makes Sam want to punch the man in the face right then. “Of course. How about I give you a tour, so you can see for yourself?” Fields stands and motions towards the door. 

Sam almost doesn’t Natasha hitting a few keys on her phone as they stand. He startles when his phone rings as he’s about to walk out of Fields’ office. He pulls out his cell and checks the screen. “I’m afraid I have to take this, darling. Can you do the tour without me?” 

Sam grins as Natasha slips a piece of paper in between the door and the frame before it shuts. “Of course, dear.” 

“This is Sam.” He says into the phone, watching as Natasha chats with Fields as he leads her towards the elevator. He waits until the elevator door has closed behind them before turning and opening the door, slipping the piece of paper into his pocket. He plugs the flash drive into the computer, watching to make sure the download starts. He hums the mission impossible theme under his breath and starts going through the desk drawers. 

The first couple of drawers are either empty of only contain normal office things like printer paper and a stapler. The bottom left hand drawer is a different story. He gives a silent thank you to every deity he can think of for letting Fields be an overconfident and lazy criminal. Inside the bottom drawer are two accounting books, one that contains normal expenditures like electricity and salaries, and one that contains a list of names and numbers next to the names. Sam gives himself a mental pat on the back and takes pictures of every page of the second book. 

He’s careful to place everything back exactly as he found it. After checking the progress of the download, which is at 56%, he moves on the file cabinets against the wall. The drawers are thankfully labeled by floor instead of alphabetically, so Sam opens the third floor drawer and takes pictures of every medical chart in the file. He cautiously puts all the files back in the cabinet and hurries back to the computer. Sam unplugs and pockets the flash drive once he double checks it has completed the download, and heads out of the office, closing the door behind him. 

He debates whether to stay and pretend to be on his phone, waiting to Fields and Natasha to return, or to head down and try to find them. “Fuck it.” He mutters to himself, and pushes the button for the elevator, taking it down to the first floor. He’s not cut out for this spy shit. 

He spots Natasha and Fields coming out of the cafeteria, and heads towards them, tucking his cellphone away like he was just using it. “Sorry about that.” He says as Natasha waves him over. “Did you finish the tour?” 

Natasha wraps her arm around Sam. “Yes. It’s a lovely little place. I think Mother will like it, once we talk to her about it.” 

“Take your time. There will be a spot for her when she’s ready.’ Fields’ shakes their hands. “It was lovely meeting you both.” 

“We’ll be in touch.” Natasha reassures Fields. 

_

*END FLASHBACK* 

Steve walks back in just as Sam finishes recounting what happened. “I talked to Maryann, from the hospital. She said she’ll get a room ready.” 

“Just in time, I think Willy is waking up.” Bucky says, pointing to where Willy is groggily blinking his eyes. 

“How are you going to explain him being there?” Natasha asks as Steve crouches by Willy. 

“Apparently, Tony took the liberty of making up some fake papers for him just in case.” Steve replies. “Hey Willy, it’s Steve. How’re you doing?” 

“Are we worried about what Fields might do?” Sam questions, voice soft to avoid startling Willy. 

Bucky snorts. “What are they going to do? Call the police and risk an investigation? They’ll pretend Willy never existed.” 

Willy grumbles and his eyes slip shut, causing Steve to sigh. 

“He’s coming down from some heavy medication, it’ll take a while before he’s coherent.” Natasha says gently. 

Steve shakes his head. “Yeah. I guess I better get him over to the hospital.” 

“What are we going to do after that?” 

Steve’s face hardens. “We’re going to take down Fields.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying really hard to catch all my mistakes, but if I’m being honest, I hate reading my own stuff, so I’m super sorry for all typos and grammar mistakes. I’m going to take some time to go back through and clean it up a little bit when I get the chance.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it! The last chapter. This is has been such a fun ride, I hope all of you have enjoyed it. I think I tied up everything, but who knows? I just thought I should post it now, or I'll over think it, and it might never be done. Thanks to everyone who has left comments or kudos, or bookmarked or subscribed. I hope this last chapter doesn't let y'all down!

Bucky carries Willy to the Prius for Steve. “Do you want me to go with you?” 

“No.” Steve shakes his head, lost in thought. “Can you do something else for me while I get him settled at the hospital?” 

“Course, what do you need?” 

“Can you try in get in contact with Willy’s family? I think it’s time someone filled them in on what’s going on.” Steve gets in the car, starting it up. “When I get back, we’ll go over everything we know and make a plan.” 

Bucky’s smile is sharp. “I’ll take care of it.” 

Steve grins back and pulls out of the driveway. He keeps one eye on Willy on the drive to the hospital, listening to his incoherent mumbling. Maryann is waiting outside of the hospital when he pulls up, wheelchair next to her. 

“Mr. Stark faxed over papers for a William Smith twenty minutes ago.” Maryann says cheerfully when Steve opens the door. “He also arranged for a private room, and told us in no uncertain terms that all expenses were to be charged in Mr. Stark’s name.” 

“That’s Tony for you.” Steve replies, taking Willy out of the car and placing him in the chair carefully. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Maryann. I know you’re taking a big risk.” 

Maryann swats at Steve’s shoulder. “Now listen here, hun. I haven’t done anything you need to be thanking me for. I can’t imagine there’s anything you could ask of me that I wouldn’t do for you. If you say this man needs to be here, then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure he gets the best care.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve lowers his head bashfully. “He’s a good guy, he doesn’t deserve what’s been done to him.” 

Maryann pats Steve’s cheek fondly. “You don’t need to worry about it now. He’ll get the best care here. You just worry about making it right for him.” 

Steve is walking through the front door heading to his car when his phone rings. 

“Morning, Captain Crunch. How’s it hanging?” 

“Hey Tony. Thanks for Willy’s papers, I just dropped him off.” Steve says. 

Tony cuts him off before Steve can say anything else. “Yeah, yeah, no problem. Look, I just thought you might want to know that I took the liberty of having Jarvis monitor Fields’ accounts when I was digging up information on him. He’s been a very busy bee this morning, shifting money around to different accounts.” 

“Is that legal?” Steve starts the car, waiting while the call automatically switches to Bluetooth. 

“Weeell,” Tony breathes out. “Let’s just pretend I said yes.” 

“And what exactly am I supposed to do with this legally gathered information?” 

“It would literally take me hours to explain the technology behind this, but the short version is that Jarvis recorded Fields shifting his money around. So if you happen to be thinking about pointing the cops in his direction, I have the proof waiting for you in an attachment I just sent to your email. You’re welcome.” 

Steve can hear the grin in Tony’s voice. “Alright, I’ll look at it when I get home. Thanks, Tony.” 

“Take him down, Cap.” Tony replies, hanging up. 

Steve finishes the drive in silence, pulling up to find Bucky waiting outside for him. “Hey, Buck.” 

“I was thinking that now that we’ve taken Willy, Fields might try to cut his losses and make a run for it.” Bucky paces as Steve climbs out of the car. “We have to nail him with something before he makes a break for it.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. Did you happen to get in contact with Willy’s family?” Steve grasps Bucky’s arm, gently leading him inside. 

“Willy Jr told us he got a call from the staff at the nursing home telling him his father had rapid onset dementia. He was going to come and visit, but the staff told him it would make Willy more confused and upset. He never checks the account his mother set up, so he had no idea the money was being drained.” 

“Well that’s something we can use.” Steve hums to himself, dropping on the couch next to Sam. “The problem is we need to make sure that when we make our move, it’s something he can’t come back from.” 

“We need to hit him from all sides.” Bucky offers. “It’s hard to win a war when you’re fighting on two fronts.” 

“I’ve been thinking about that. You know, Willy isn’t the only person Fields’ has done this to. I think the other families deserve to know what’s going on just as much as Willy’s does.” Sam holds up the printed out files for the third floor residents. “This is a lot of people, and I bet they have a lot of angry family members.” 

“I like the way you think, Sam.” Natasha smiles, picking up her phone. “The more people to file charges against Fields, the better.” 

“That’s not going to be enough, though.” Bucky points out. “He’s already won a case against civilian complaints. We need more.” 

“Tony called me to tell me he recorded Fields shifting his money around. You were right that he’s probably trying to cut his losses and run.” Steve turns to face Bucky, lowering his voice so he doesn’t disturb Sam and Nat who are already on the phone with the victims’ families. 

“So we have the financial proof. Sam even managed to get pictures of his second account books. And we’ll have the complaints of the families. Will that be enough?” 

“I don’t want to take any chances. We need a smoking gun.” Steve scrubs both hands through his hair. “We need him to admit it.” 

“How’re we going to get him to do that?” 

“I have an idea.” Steve grins, pulling out his phone and dialing. “Hey Tony, do you think you’d be able to do something for me?” 

∞ 

Steve walks through the front doors of the nursing home, eyes hard and shoulders back. He stalks up to the front desk and glares at the receptionist as he walks past her towards the elevator. 

Tiffany looks up, startled. “Sir, where are you going? Do you have an idea?” 

Steve ignores her and continues to the elevator, pushing the button. 

Tiffany wisely chooses to pick up the phone instead of trying to physically stop Steve. Steve can hear her warning Fields as the elevator doors close behind him. 

Fields is waiting outside the elevator when he arrives. “Can I help you?” 

“Yes, you can.” Steve says, pushing past Fields. “You can turn yourself into the police.” 

Fields sputters while Steve shoves the office door open. “What are you talking about?” 

“I know all about what you’ve been doing here, to these people, to their bank accounts. I even have the proof.” Steve calmly strides around the office, leaning against the file cabinets. 

Fields scoffs. “You’re bluffing.” 

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the type of man that bluffs to you?” 

“If you have the proof then why not go to the police?” Fields settles in his chair behind his desk, all false calm and superiority. 

“We both know that money can go a long way in this country.” Steve arches an eyebrow. “And maybe I just want to hear you admit it. But if you don’t believe me, why don’t you check your bank accounts. You know, the secret ones protected from the prying eyes of the government?” 

Fields looks startled, hastily typing on his keyboard. He spends a few moments clicking and typing, getting progressively paler. “What have you done?” 

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” Steve frowns. “Can you be more specific?” 

“You took my money, you punk. My accounts are empty.” Fields seethes. 

“Would those be the accounts filled with money you took from the patients you’re drugging to the gills with medicine they don’t need?” Steve leans forward waiting. 

“You want to hear me say it? The people here, their families don’t care about them. I’m doing them a favor. They don’t have to feel guilty about never visiting, and I take a little extra for my trouble. You stole my money!” 

Steve leans back, holding up his hands. “Would I be capable of that?” 

“I knew you’d be trouble, asking all those questions.” Fields’ says angrily. He reaches into the top drawer of his desk, pulling out a gun, and brandishing it at Steve. 

“Pointing a gun at someone doesn’t seem like something an innocent person would do.” Steve says calmly and clearly. 

“You just had to go sticking your nose where it didn’t belong. Who do you think you are?” 

“Nobody. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn. But the people here? They have families who care about them. They were all shocked to hear how their fathers and mothers were being treated.” Steve gives his most charming smile. “In fact, I think most of them decided to file complaints with the local police. They seemed pretty angry.” He looks over his shoulder, seeing Bucky walking towards him, flanked by two detectives and Captain Jefferson. “You’re going to want to put the gun down now.” 

Fields lowers the gun in shock. Steve leans forward and takes it out of his hand. “What? How did you?” 

“See, the thing is. You hurt someone I care about, and I just couldn’t let that go.” 

_Flashback_

 _Bucky saunters into the police station with a stack of files tucked under his arm. He turns a glower on the receptionist and every officer he passes as he heads straight to the Captain’s office in the back of the station. He knocks on the open door, lessening his glare to something approaching respectful._

 _

“Can I help you, son?” Captain Jefferson looks alarmed, rising quickly to his feet. 

“Actually, sir, there is.” Bucky slips in the room, closing the door behind him. He drops the stack of files on the Captain’s desk. “I think you’ll find everything you need in this file to bring charges against Nathan Fields, the owner of Pine View nursing home.” 

The captain looks skeptically at the file. “Really?” 

“Yes, sir. But just in case you need more convincing.” Bucky hands over an ear wig. “If you’ll just put this in sir, I think you’ll hear everything you need to.” 

“And you are?” 

“Bucky Barnes, sir. Captain America sent me.” 

End Flashback

_

“Nathan Fields, it’s my genuine pleasure to inform you that you’re under arrest. Detective, read him his rights.” Captain Jefferson pulls the ear bud out and holds it out for Steve. They both stand and watch as the detective handcuffs Fields and leads him away. “Nice work, Captain.” 

Steve shuffles his feet. “Thanks for listening.” 

“I just have one question. How’d you get him to think the money was taken out of his account?” Captain Jefferson asks. 

Bucky grins, opening his mouth, but Steve slaps his hand over it. “Must have been a glitch.” 

Captain Jefferson eyes them both, amused smile on his face. “I see. Well, it would take years for the victims to get their money back, if we could even get the bank to hand the money over. I suppose if it were to be missing, the victims might have a better chance at getting it back.” 

“I imagine that’s true, sir.” Steve smiles his Captain America smile. 

“You boys have a good day, now.” Captain Jefferson shakes his head and walks off. Only Steve’s enhanced hearing allows him to hear the captain say, “I can’t believe I just let Captain America off with stealing millions of dollars.” 

“Tony transferred the money to a shell company account he owns. He already has Jarvis working on transferring the money back to its rightful owners. He also called a few doctors to come and check on the patients here, he’s making sure they get the best care.” Bucky says, pulling Steve against him. “That was kind of hot.” 

“Of course you think me being a criminal is hot.” Steve rolls his eyes. 

“What can I say? I thought you were hot when you were ninety pound soaking wet. I thought you were hot when you were throwing a shield at Nazis wearing an American flag costume. I definitely think you’re hot when you’re taking down bad guys ripping off old folks.” Bucky nuzzles into Steve’s neck. “This is going to become a habit, isn’t it?” 

Steve hums non-committedly. “We’ll see.” 

∞ 

**Two Weeks Later**

“Why are there a dozen teenage boys crowded around our living room, eating pizza and playing xbox?” Bucky leans against their bedroom door. “When did we even get an xbox?” 

Steve gives Bucky his most innocent looking smile. “Their property manager shut off their electricity and water.” He replies carefully, sorting through a pile of blueprints laid out over their bed. “Tony dropped off the xbox a few hours ago.” 

”Okay.” Bucky says slowly. “What are you going to do about it?” 

**“We** ,” Steve stresses, looking steadily at Bucky. “are going to steal a group home.”


End file.
